A Very Merry Hetalia Valentine's Day
by DistilledAria
Summary: You wake up from a long week of world travels, but what exactly happened during that week? Is it a bit suspicious why all your friends called you at the same time? And where did you get that fabulous rug? YouxVarious
1. Japan:Learning Careful Customs

_First fic posting! I wrote this back in February, so that's why it's Valentine's themed. Japan one is a little weak, but I promise it get's better! (and steamier honhonhon) It's all sort of a connected story, but you can skip through some characters if you wish. There will be a conclusion at the end. Enjoy!_

_I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or anything of the sort. If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here._

...

You groaned and pulled a pillow over your head. How early was it? What_ day _was it? This past week's events had completely tired you out. For some reason, almost all of the countries you were close with had wanted tomeet with you, specifically before this Tuesday. You didn't know why it was so immediate, but, being the generous country you were, didn't turn down any of the offers.

Flying to a different region everyday _did _have its flaws, say, sleep deprivation. You did manage to get a few winks on the flights, but that was not nearly enough. How you maintained a relatively fair attitude was baffling.

You cuddled into your cushy bed, trying to recall this month's events. Rubbing you hand over the soft pillow, you remembered how much you loathed your bed while sleeping on floor mats. _Japan_. That was who you visited first! What exactly did you do with him…

**Japan: Learning Careful Customs**

You sighed contentedly as you took in the sights and smells of the distant country. The quaint little town he asked you to meet him in was so different from the deluginly bright city of Tokyo. A stray cherry blossom floated past you. Quickly, you snatched it the flower out of the air. You opened your hands. The blossom was so delicate, just you grabbing it out of the air had rumpled one of its petals. You frowned. Hopefully that wasn't a bad luck sign.

"The cherry blossoms are so beautiful."

You jumped at the sudden voice.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyes met the deep brown ones of Kiku Honda, AKA the reserved island nation of Japan. He stared at you blankly.

You opened your arms and smiled.

"Japan!"

The Asian country tensed. You coughed and retracted. No physical contact. Right.

"Er, it's so nice to see you!"

He nodded once and held out a hand towards you suitcase. You handed him it, still smiling excessively. Darn it, how could you have been so stupid! He turned around and motioned for you to follow him.

You were immersed in Shinto shrines and the red, curved roofs of the buildings. It was so unfamiliar, but gorgeous. Birds sang throughout the trees, in harmony with a faintly strummed instrument. From the times you had been to Japan, it was mostly in the bright cities. You understood why he would want to live here instead. It fit him.

You arrived at a moderately sized house, a ways from the town. Only the flowing decorative fountain could be heard. You mimicked Japan and slipped off your shoes inside. Instantly, you were greeted by a tiny, fluffy dog. You laughed and petted its head.

"Pochi, right?"

Japan nodded and sat your bag by a screen. Was that a slight smile you detected? He usually wasn't this quiet, but this was the first time you had truly been alone.

You sat down on the mats in front of a small table as Japan headed to the kitchen. Pochi happily cuddled by your leg. You looked at your outfit and smacked you forehead. People here were walking around in traditional garbs like kimonos…and what had you worn? A tee shirt and jeans! You had heard showing your elbows in Japan was preposterous…maybe that's why he was keeping his distance.

Japan came out with a bowl of green bean pods. You strenuously laughed and wrapped arms together, plastering your hands over your elbows. He sat across from you with a bemused expression.

"(name)-chan, what are you doing?"

You could feel your face heating up from his gaze.

"Um, er, well…so, what are we doing this evening?"

Although you couldn't see your face, you imagined your exaggerated expression was laughable.

Japan tilted his head to the side.

"I was thinking we could go see a bloom showing. It's not as big as the one in Okinawa, but it's still nice. They serve tea and rice cakes."

He spoke so softly that it was just loud enough so you could hear him. You plucked a bean pod from the bowl and stuck it in your mouth. Japan furrowed his brows. You gave him a clueless look.

"Um, (name)-chan, you don't eat the entire thing."

He took out a pod and popped a bean into his mouth. Oh. You slowly took the pod out and set it on the table. Pochi perked up and snatched it up. Both of you stared at the dog, who was unknowingly licking his lips.

"Oh…_eew,_" you blurted.

Japan muffledly laughed and petted Pochi. Idiot.

After rummaging through your bag, you found a shirt that covered your elbows. You trudged out of the guest room, still dreading about that _rug _that was supposedly your bed for the night. Japan waited at the doorway in a dark blue kimono, two colorful objects in his hands. He lightly smiled at you and handed you the papery object. You fiddled with it in your hands, unsure of what to do with it. He let out a cross between a laugh and a sigh. Taking it from you, he pushed it open, revealing a pink parasol.

"Oh."

That word seemed to come out of your mouth too much today.

With that, you headed off down the familiar path. Crimson afternoon light dyed the scenery, a picturesque display. A crowd started to thicken as you got closer the festival. You dived closer to Japan, trying to escape all of the lingering stares your way. Slowing your pace, you stole glances at him. He kept his face polite and maintained. You couldn't help but admire how he was always composed. As you thought about it, you never remembered a time he had been overwhelmingly mad. His dusky eyes met yours for a second.

"Is there something you need, -chan?"

Your face heated up. He thought you were staring, you _were _staring. Stupid! You were making him uncomfortable. Ignorant foreigner.

"Oi, _josei_![1] Lady!" someone yelled.

You turned around hastily, not used to being called in your language. Your parasol hit something with a hard thud.

"Oof!"

Gasping, you turned around, managing to hit Japan in the face again.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" you said, hovering your hand over his shoulders. Still the touch barrier…

A group of boys snickered as Japan hunkered over, clutching his eye.

"Oh my goodness! Kiku, are you okay?"

He looked up at you with his one eye.

"You used my real name."

"Uh, erm, yeah. Here,"

You rested your hand on his cautiously and removed it from his eye. Purple was starting to form around it. He seemed to relax from your touch. You rubbed under the swelling and sighed.

"You manage to swing a parasol with great strength," he said.

"Ha, that should be my new weapon. But really, you need some ice…I'll go find some! Just, um, wait here!"

Turning around on the balls of your feet, you yet again whacked Japan in the face.

"Oh! Oh no! I'm so, so sorry! I promise I won't do that again! Oh, no, no! S-"

He laughed louder and shook his head.

"It's fine, chan. I'm fine."

"Oh, are you sure? We can head back…I'll find some ice there,"

The unusually warm look on his face made you shut up. He took a step towards you. You squeaked. You couldn't contain it anymore!

You practically tackled him, taking him into a confining hug. He froze. You hummed and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His black hair tickled your cheek. You hoped that the touch barrier didn't apply to hugs. Hadn't Italy mentioned something…

Japan started to babble incoherently, but made no effort to push you away. You giggled, then noticed the crowd, now gawking at both of you.

When you returned to the plane, you found out that _any _public displays of affection were serious, and considered rude if done in very crowded places. You shut your laptop, your face blank as stone. Oh.

...

[1] Lady in Japanese, if you didn't draw that conclusion XD.


	2. TurkeyGreece:Rugs

A_ millipede crawled on my pillow last night :C. My squeeling woke my brother up, so he killed it from underneath a cookbook I had smashed upon it. I guess staying up until 2:00 A.M. is good if you're worried about insects. Anyways, second chapter! There isn't any millipedes, thank goodness._

_**...**  
_

Cringing at the humiliating memory, you scrambled out of your bed, hair in shambles. You walked to your kitchen and started brewing a cup of your favorite herbal tea. Scanning your cabinet for one of your favorite coffee cups, you noticed how much it differed from your other friends' surroundings. Ah, now that was a different experience.

**Turkey/Greece: Rugs**

After thanking Japan for a lovely day, you boarded a plane to the next closest stop: Patra, Greece. Heracles had sent you pictures of the beautiful blue-green Mediterranean sea and the white houses along the shore. You envied the sleep country for having such spectacular views.

A crack of static in the overhead speaker disrupted your daydreaming.

"We are sorry for the inconvenience, but due to weather, we are docking at Esenboga International Airport. Again, we apologize for the delay."

Muffled grumbles and complaints came from the passengers. Turning your head, you peered out the window. Sure enough, dark clouds were brewing close by. It was a relief that the pilot wasn't going to try to navigate through the storm, but that would also rupture your carefully planned schedule. And…where exactly was the Esenboga airport?

You tapped a suit clad man next to you.

"Um, excuse me, where are we?"

He looked you over and scoffed.

"You're obviously not from around here," he said in a heavy accent.

"We're in Ankara, capital of Turkey."

You felt the blood drain from your face. Ugh, anywhere but Turkey. Even France would be better!...okay, maybe not.

You arrived at the airport, feeling lost. Where would you stay? How would you communicate with anyone without a companion? You weren't really fluent in Turkish.

Standing amidst the crowd, you pulled out your cell phone and sent an apologetic text to Greece. You were guessing he would not be happy with your location.

Trapped alone in a foreign city, you decided to head out and find a bank. They wouldn't accept your currency or yen. As soon as you stepped outside the door, a heavy rain shower poured down on you.

You squeaked and stumbled backwards, falling onto a man exiting the door. He cursed in a different language and shoved past you. People took shelter in surrounding buildings, not wanting to get pounded by torrential rain. Sighing, you decided to wait the downpour out and ran to the nearest building.

Heaving the door open, heads yet again turned toward you. You coughed and sidestepped. Were you really that interesting of a sight?

An aroma of bread filled your nostrils. You must've wandered into a bakery. Your eyes trailed to the shelves. Fat, golden loaves were just sitting there, begging to be eaten. Your stomach rumbled. Curses, you didn't eat at Japan's place, not wanting to further embarrass yourself. All you had was that bag of nuts on the plane. Your clutched your stomach and glowered longingly at the shelves.

"Yo? (name)?"

What were the chances? You slowly turned around to face a tan, masked man munching on a sweet roll.

"What are 'ya doing here in Ankara?"

You scowled.

"You even wear that stupid mask inside?"

"It isn't _stupid_. You're just jealous."

You opened your mouth to object, but were stopped by the delicious looking glazed roll…He took notice of this and smiled.

"Hungry, are we? Don't suppose you have an liras with you?"

You didn't want to ask anyone for money, especially Turkey. But you were so hungry…

You dropped your eyes to the floor.

"Could…I have a few dollars? Just for some food? All I have is yen."

Turkey fished out a few bills from his pocket and held it out. You reached for them, but he pulled away, shaking his head.

"I'll buy you some food, but you have to sit down and tell me _why_ you're here. I don't want any unplanned invasions."

You crossed your arms.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to invade you…now."

...

"So your flight was delayed from Greece and you landed here?"

You nodded, wiping crumbs from your mouth.

"And you're stuck here, without any legitimate money and a place to stay?"

Rolling your eyes, you nodded again. He cocked an eyebrow.

"That's too bad."

You got up and inspected the window.

"Looks like the rain's let up. I'm going to the bank and then getting a hotel. Bye, I guess."

You pushed the door open.

"Wait," a hand grabbed your shoulder.

"A single woman with, I'm guess, not very much money, in a lower hotel in Ankara? I advise against it."

You shrugged and stepped outside.

"I don't have much of a choice,"

"Er, you can stay at my place!" Turkey yelled, shoving a woman aside to catch up to you.

You paused. Turkey was certainly a country you weren't on the greatest terms with, and you found him somewhat annoying, He looked at you, you swore you could see hopefulness behind his mask. If he didn't have the accessory, he'd look like a desperate little puppy.

"Ugh, alright."

Turkey beamed. Greece was going to _kill_ you.

...

Turkey guided you to his car, storing your bag inside. You still weren't sure why he insisted on you staying with him. As far as you knew, you two were close to enemy relations…he opened the side door.

"Hold on," you said.

"I want to look around the city, while I'm stuck here."

He closed the door.

"Wow, 'ya make it sound like you don't enjoy being in the best capital in the world!"

You smirked.

"_Opinion_. My capital's better."

"Oh?" A challenge gleamed in his eye.

"Does your capital have the biggest park in all of Europe? Or have a breed of cat and rabbit hailing from it?"

"No, but-" you were interrupted by a loud crack of thunder.

You squeezed your arms together and inched closer to Turkey.

"Um, do you have any indoor attractions?"

He smiled.

"Sure! How about the State Art and Sculpture Museum?"

You could feel a genuine grin growing on your face, much to your dismay. Casually brushing it off, you coughed.

"That sounds reasonable enough."

Turkey scoffed and motioned for you to get in the car.

"But let me tell you about the museums in _my_ country."

...

Turkey took you to the historic art museum, old myriad shops, (where you managed to prod buying a rug out of him) and Byzantine sites. You two had pleasant, if not a bit fierce, conversations. Walking straight out of a bistro, you both ducked under a canopy above a bench to avoid the light drizzle. You leaned against a railing, staring at the city's imposing buildings.

The unavoided crept into your mind. You were beginning to wonder why you disliked Turkey in the first place. He wasn't unfriendly or distant. He did seem like your complementary type…Was it because your friendship with Greece? Maybe you just were intimidated by him.

Turkey walked up beside you, the dark eyeholes gazing out. You decided to blame your aversion on that stupid mask.

He turned his head.

"Something up?"

You grimaced.

That mask. It kept you from seeing his eyes. For some reason, you _had_ to see his eyes now, not just stare into empty holes. Had you ever even seen his eyes?

His mouth twitched uncomfortably. You couldn't stand it anymore! You reached up closer to his face and threw the mask off. His eyes widened in surprise. Ah, his eyes.

They were a honey-gold color, perfectly coordinating with his skin. It reminded you of a sunset. Or perhaps a freshly baked apple pie…ugh, dang Turkey and his obsession with sweets!

He blinked, speechless. You could see he was trying to figure out what you were thinking, or if you might attempt to punch him. You weren't sure of what you were thinking. His eyes, you were lost in them. It ticked you off because you were lost in TURKEY'S eyes.

Both of you stared at each other, unsure what to say. You parted your mouth, but something furry brushing against your leg stopped you. An orange cat was purring happily against you. Resisting the urge to yell out, "AWW!", you looked around. Cats in Turkey?

"What? A cat? Oh bloke!"

A green eyed figure stepped into view. Your mouth fell open.

"G-Greece? How-"

He stared at Turkey, not meeting your eyes.

"What are you doing with him, (name)?"

Turkey glared back.

"She's having _fun_, that's what!"

"She was supposed to be with me."

"Well, too bad! She'd rather be with me, wouldn't you (name)?"

"Uh, uh-" you stammered.

"No, we'd specifically planned our meeting. I'm actually her friend."

Greece's usually calm voice had an edge to it.

"Oh yeah, Jerk-ules? You're old news! I'm (name)'s new friend!"

"I'm sure she'd rather be enjoying my breathtaking vista than moping around in your dried-up goat cities."

"Hey, those goats made me more money than you'll ever dream about!"

The two argued and flung threats at each other. You thought that after some years their rivalry would simmer down. Kneeling beside the cat, you softly petted its fur. Before you were two handsome, tan men fighting over, well, what appeared to be you, yet you weren't one bit amused. If anything, you were a bit angry. Couldn't they get along for one day, if they cared about you? Their voices started to ring in your ears. You had put up with enough.

"Stop!"

They looked at you, shutting their mouths.

"Look, we're all here now, and," you pointed at the sky.

"It's late. Let's just go back to Turkey's place. We're all tired. We can talk about this tomorrow."

Greece narrowed his eyes at the desert nation, but curtly nodded. Turkey smiled triumphantly and started down the street. Greece stepped closer to Turkey, out of your earshot.

"Only because (name)'s with you," he hissed in his ear.

Turkey scowled, glancing back at you. You were walking down the street, your arms crossed tightly around his mask, your lip slightly sticking out in frustration.

_Damn_, he thought, _why does she have to be so stubbornly cute?_

_...  
_

Turkey's house was not prepared for visitors when you arrived. You settled for the sofa. Anywhere looked reasonable considering how tired you were. At least it was a nice sofa. Greece slept on a couch in a separate room. You figured he could fall asleep anyplace with ease.

You picked out a magazine and looked at some of the photographs of other Turkish cities. Soon the ever slightly photo shopped images bored you. After staring at the designed ceiling and thinking about how you were going to work out this whole dispute, you finally drifted off to sleep.

Your dreams were visions of desert civilizations and a certain masked man. Some of it, though, was not a dream. Blood in the sand, your blood. The old Ottoman empire, your friends' mothers, a dreaded war…

You jolted awake. Turkey's snores escaped from the bedroom. You reached up and touched your eyes. Wetness filled the bottoms. You pulled a woven blanket closer to you. Turkey wasn't that empire anymore, he was different. He talked about how he wanted to work on his relationships with Europe, to forge alliances, to rekindle your relations…

You notice a figure sitting and leaning against the bottom of the couch. Squinting, you tried to make him out.

"Greece?"

He turned sleepily to you, his green eyes illuminated by the dim nightlight.

"(Name), were you having a nightmare?" he spoke in his soothing manner.

"Er," you sat up, giving him a seat next to you.

"Sort of."

He stared at you expressionlessly.

"I'm fine. Nightmares don't scare me."

You locked onto his gaze.

"I'm surprise _you_ are still awake."

"This place isn't welcoming. People's eyes prod me."

You laughed flatly.

"I get that wherever I go."

To your surprise, he leaned against your shoulder, his eyelids drooping. Your heart started to beat ever faster as he loosely wrapped his arms around you. You could hear his light breathing. It was a bit weird, considering you were the pillow, and smaller than him. He had a relaxing atmosphere, which had its effect on you.

"(Name)," he hummed.

"Mmm?"

"You're always welcomed in Greece."

You smiled and rested your head on his. Scratch that, Turkey was going to kill you.


	3. ItalyRomano:Fine Living

_I can't think of any good synonyms for nodded…:O spellcheck, smush is totally a word! Another kind of two character combined chapter. You certainly have a lot going for you, eh? XD Hmm, should I announce who's next? Nah, that'd ruin the suspense! MUAHA~_

_Crowd of onlookers: -_-' _

**…**

You sipped your tea, smiling. The Turkish rug you bought sat under the dining room table. Turkey wasn't such a bad guy, he bought you a rug after all! Remembering the bakery, you pulled out a bagel.

As you chewed on the rather bland food, you reminisced on your world friends' cooking. You got elated whenever they would cook you some of their specialties. Denmark's pastries, France's bread, China's chicken. You were jealous of their cuisine, but at least you were a better cook than England.

Oh, the food of your next visit. Everything about that country made you sigh in pleasure. It was an unforgettable experience.

**Italy/Romano: Fine Living**

"Ve~(name)!"

Your cheerful friend ran up and tackled you in a hug. He almost knocked the wind out of you.

"Haha, it's good to see you too, Italy!"

You awkwardly patted him on the head while squirming to get free.

"I'm so glad you're here, (name)! We have so much to do! We'll eat all the pasta and go to the coliseum and the beaches and-"

"Chigi! Shut up, will you? (name) just got here!"

You looked toward the dark haired, fuming Italian.

"And hello to you, Romano."

He responded with a simple, "Cheh,"

Italy grabbed your hand and yanked you down the cobblestone street. He pointed excitedly at the shingled row-houses of Venice, bubbling on about what he had planned for the day. You laughed and nodded, knowing there was no way you could fit it all in. Romano followed behind, making the occasional pessimistic comment.

"_Venezia_ is so pretty, isn't it (name)?" Italy leaned over a bridge, gazing into the reflective water.

You nodded, glancing at the cute little shops and vendors. Venice was different, yet had a warm atmosphere about it. Just like the brothers.

"Where do you live from here, Romano?" you asked, trying to bring him into the conversation.

He pointed over the waterways to a peach house nestled in a hill. Your eyes widened. It was _huge_.

"You live _there?_"

Romano nodded, his mouth slightly upturned at your expression.

"Oh, look! A gondola!"

A golden, curved boat swam up to you. The driver tipped his hat and greeted them in Italian. They responded in a similar tongue.

You scoffed. _Romance languages._

You carefully loaded your bag onto the boat. It was fashionably cushioned, with lanterns hanging on the side. You were surprised such a flimsy looking thing could carry all of the load, including you.

The driver took wide strokes with his one long paddle. You turned your head to a balcony where a couple swayed to a single instrumentalist. It was so festive and happy here, it made you just want to get up and dance. Romano's amber eyes trailed to the same spot, making him begin to hum. It was unlike his gruff, deep tone, and surprisingly melodic.

Italy pointed out many landmarks on your boat ride, enthusiastically telling about each one. You were glad he took such and interest to his own history. Who wouldn't in such a colorful country?

"Oh, (name)!" Italy reached into his shirt pocket.

"Romano and I made something for you, something special!"

He smiled and place a cool, metal chain in your hand. You held it out. It was a golden necklace with tiny tomato-hearts lining around it.

"Aww, how cute! Thank you Italy!"

You cocked an eyebrow and turned to Romano.

"And thank _you_, Romano."

He narrowed his eyes.

"It's really annoying how you do that."

"Do what?"

"Mention me after my brother every time, dammit!"

"Are you jealous?"

Romano's face reddened.

"Fratello~"

Italy leaned over and hugged him.

"Bastard, get off!"

"But Lovi-"

"Ugh, don't call me that girly name!"

You giggled at their antics and fastened the necklace. Usually any petty arguments between countries annoyed you, but you knew the brothers loved each other.

Finally, you arrived at your destination. The large house sat on an isle, with a vineyard to the side. It was a scene out of a vacation brochure.

"I still can't believe you _live _here," you said, shaking your head.

Romano carried your bag for you on the uphill path. When you reached the entrance an older man waited at the top, tapping his foot impatiently. He caught sight of you, stomping over, his fine white robes swaying. The brothers stiffened.

"Eh, Italia! I have a matter you have so irresponsibly brought out of your attention!" the man said in a rough, commanding Italian accent.

"_Il Vaticano_!" they squeaked.

He walked up to both of them and prodded Italy in the chest.

"The church demands more funds and say! I have been neglected long enough!"

Italy squealed and slumped back. Vatican stared daggers.

"And the wine you provide is too sour!" he proclaimed, poking Romano.

"We're sorry! We're sorry!" they screamed, running to you.

They fell to their knees and hugged your waist.

"We just can't provide the money right now…"

"You _what? Sciocchi!_[1]" he yelled.

Italy started to cry in the bottom of your shirt.

"Hey," you spoke up.

"Leave them alone. They can't spare the funds at the moment, you'll just have to wait a little longer."

He waved his hand at you.

"This has nothing to do with you, woman. Go back to your house."

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms.

"Excuse me? You're invading Italy and Romano's property, _micronation. _Even your Swiss guards couldn't withstand the entire Italian armada, could they? Italy could just strip you of your funds altogether."

He glared, but doubt shone through his stare.

"Now get your 0.44 kilometers out of here, before I call _my _army on you."

His mouth dropped at sudden realization of who you were. He wiped his wrinkled forehead and stomped off, mumbling curses in Italian.

"And learn some manners!" you yelled after him.

You smiled triumphantly. The brothers stuck to you, hugging you tightly. You looked down at them. Their eyes were closed, smushing their faces into your hips.

"Um, you guys can let go now."

Silence.

"Guys?"

"But we don't want to…" Romano murmured in your side.

"You're so strong and pretty, (name). You even made _Vaticano_ go away…" Italy said.

Now, you knew the Italy brothers were womanizers, and you would never fall for anyone's tricks, but they were in _your _arms…

You shook your head. With that kind of thinking, you were bound to get a reputation like France!

"Oh come one, he's just some old man. Get up, I really want to see your house!"

A few brief moments passed, then they got up. Italy took your hand and skipped towards the house. You looked back to Romano, who was gazing to the side of the hill. Disappointment lingered in his expression.

Italy unlocked the door and led you in. Inside was even more impressive. Flowers, paintings, and other artsy decorations lined the halls. You were surprised at the cleanliness of the whole place.

"Wow, it's…you-I-" you rambled.

"Just _wow._"

Italy grinned cordially.

"I'll go prepare the pasta! Romano can give you a tour."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," the tanner Italian huffed.

Romano showed you around the house, giving bland descriptions such as, "This is where I watch TV," "Here's one of those masterpieces…I forget the name," "This is the supply closet,". Eventually, you got to the more interesting part of the tour. He led you outside to the scenic vineyard overlooking the water flowing into Venice. You sighed and took in the view.

Suddenly, you spotted a blonde head hop off a fence.

"Romano!" the blonde yelled, anger in his tone.

Romano groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Is everyone freaking visiting today?"

A thirteen year-old boy stood in front of you, hands on his hips. A hair curl jutted out, mimicking Italy and Romano's. Your eyebrows raised, remembering the little nation.

"Roma, (name) is _my _woman. I thought I made that clear."

He clenched his jaw, trying to appear tough.

"Dammit Seborga! Go away!" Romano hissed.

Seborga leaned towards you and pointed a thumb at Romano.

"What do you say we ditch this loser _bella_[2], and head over to my place?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

You desperately held in a laugh.

The micronation had a hopeless crush on you ever since he had laid his eyes upon you. He tried to act manly in front of his cousins, only earning Romano's annoyance and your pity. You acted nice and deadpanned any failed flirting attempts with you. Romano always was a bit more ticked when he would try to seduce you.

"I'm sorry Seborga, but I promised Italy I'd spend the day with him," you said in your "little kid" tone.

"Pfft, that wimp? You need a _real _man."

That time, you couldn't hold it in. A squeaky laugh escaped you, but you quickly covered it with a cough.

"I promise I'll find a day to come to Seborga. Just you and me."

"Can that day be today?"

"Scram!" Romano brought back his arm.

You placed a hand on the enraged country's shoulder. He met your gaze and calmed. You winked.

"Sebi~" you crouched to his level.

"Tell you what, if you let me be with Italy and Romano today, I'll give you a kiss."

His face brightened.

"On the lips?"

"On the cheek," you said flatly.

He checked his fingernails.

"I guess that'll have to do…"

You took his chin and turned his head sideways. Slowly, you closed your eyes and leaned in. Abruptly, a pair of small lips met yours. You gasped and pulled back.

Seborga smiled mischievously. He took off laughing.

You stood up, holding your lips in shock.

Silence.

"What's the matter? It was just a little peck. Now he's gone."

You shook your head, still holding your lips.

"Wait, that wasn't your first kiss, was it?"

You turned to meet his serious eyes, but failed.

"Nooo…"

Romano clenched his fist and waved it to the distance.

"Bastard! I'll kill him!"

You raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you so concerned? Not that it _was_ my first kiss."

He angled to the side.

"I-it's just annoying! His damn, insane crush on you, just like-"

"Like who?"

Your interest piqued.

His face inflamed.

"No one! It just pisses me off because-"

"_Why?_" you prodded, grinning devilishly.

"I, augh,…erm," he stammered.

"Bread sticks are ready!" Italy called from the kitchen.

Romano let out a sigh of relief.

…

You sat down to Italy and Romano's extravagant dining room. Steaming plates of pasta, bread sticks, and salad sat on the long table. You inhaled the delicious aromas. Everything looked so natural sitting there.

"You would think you guys eat like this every day," you chuckled.

The brothers looked confusingly at each other.

"Um, we do."

You almost choked on your water.

"You're kidding me, right?"

Italy stared while Romano shook his head.

"Ve~ what do you eat usually, (name)? Cannoli? Stracciatella?"

You coughed and took a piece of bread.

"Oh my, what's that?" you pointed to a wide window.

The brothers turned your head. Hastily, you stuffed your mouth full of delicious bread. If only you got to eat like this _every day_. They had to be joking. But no, of course they had to be serious.

They turned back around. You managed a smile. Acting lady-like, you put a hand to your mouth as you chewed the load of food. Romano eyed you questionably. You didn't want your hosts to see you stuffing yourself like a pig, but it was just so, so-

"So good-" you said,mesmerized, taking a bite of the fettuccine pasta.

"What was that, (name)?" Italy asked.

You brought your napkin from your lap and politely wiped the sauce off your mouth.

"It's very good!"

Romano jeered.

"By the way you're…_indulging_ yourself, it seems like you've never had a gourmet meal in your life."

"What? Pfft," you waved your hand.

"The stuff I make is _extremely _gourmet."

"Ooh, really? Tell us some of your dishes, (name)!" Italy said.

"Yeah, (name)."

"Oh, um," your eyes trailed around the room.

"Goodness, is that Vatican City?" you pointed back to the window.

"What?" they yelled, snapping around in unison.

You scarfed down the remainder of your meal. The heavenly quality almost made you cry.

"Wait, oh, it's just a tree."

They turned around, slumping their backs. You gasped with added surprise at your plate.

"Great Caesar's Ghost, my meal has escaped me! I suppose it's time to relax and talk about something other than food?"

You started slowly scooting out of your chair, silently cheering inside at your cleverness.

Italy jumped up.

"There's still dessert! Maybe you can tell us about your cuisine then?"

He skipped off to the kitchen.

You fell into your chair and sighed. So much for cleverness.

…

Romano was on dish duty, leaving you and Italy alone in the living room. He smiled at you, his eyes clamped shut. Your curiosity overcame you swiftly. How did he see with his eyes closed? He navigated around fine, even being able to read people's feelings. Could he…see through his eyelids?

"Um, Italy, how do you…see?"

He looked taken aback.

"Ve~ what do you mean?"

"Well-"

You reluctantly reached for his eyes and tried to pry them open. Two brown orbs came into view. They widened as he gawked around the room, resting on certain objects. His look stopped on you.

"(n-name) your eyes are (eye color)! And your hair-"

He took a strand of it and began to finger it.

You could only stare incredibly at him. He poked and traced your face, his eyes filled with wonder. Had he never actually seen you before?

His eyes began to well up with emotion. He looked like he was about to cry. You started to reach out your hand to comfort him.

"Erm, oof!" you were interrupted by a strangling hug.

"(name), everything's so clear when you open your eyes! So much color!"

You oafishly reached around and patted him on the back,

"Yeah, you should try it more often."

You stayed hugging. It must've been quite an experience to open your eyes for the first time in months, you guessed. Did he just forget his eyes were closed?

His head leaned against yours and you heard something like…purring? You squirmed. His hugs were startlingly strong.

"Um, Italy?"

He didn't respond.

"You can let go…"

No reaction. You frowned and struggled against his grasp. He wouldn't loosen. You whined silently. You'd have to use the supposed secret weapon, though you weren't sure its effects.

You wiggled an arm free and reached up to his hair. Out stuck a thin piece of hair, which perked up at the top. His hair curl. Romano, Seborga, South Korea, and Norway all had something similar. You had seen Germany pull it once; you just wanted him to let go!

You pinched your fingers together and tugged on the curl.

"Ve!"

Italy promptly pulled back. Your hand, still being attached to his hair, was pulled with him.

You slammed into his chest, knocking him on his back. His pupils dilated, focusing on your hand. You struggled to hold yourself up on your elbow. A different sort of look, one that made you strangely uncomfortable, was plastered on Italy's face.

"What the hell is going on?"

You both shot up, bonking heads.

"Ow," you said simultaneously.

You quickly untangled your hand from his hair. No doing _that _again.

An angry, red-faced Romano stood in the hall. You and Italy sat, slouched over awkwardly. For some reason you felt out of breath. Italy was panting softly.

"What is _up_ with your guys' hair?"

…

Romano flipped off the light to your room.

"Bathroom's down the hall, don't fall over anything, if you need something, go wake up Veneziano. Okay?"

You nodded, tucked into your silken covers.

"Ask her if she needs anything!" Italy yelled from his bedroom.

Romano sighed.

"Do you…need anything?"

He made the polite question sound like he was about to gag on acid.

You shook your head. He scratched the back of his neck then turned on his heel.

"Wait!" you stretched out your arm.

He faced you, fiddling nervously with his pajama collar. You motioned for him with your finger. Hesitantly, he stepped over to the edge of the bed. You smiled and waved your whole hand. He walked, ever slowly, closer to you.

"Roma~" you hummed, pulling on his shirt so that he was leaning over you. A blush tinged his cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing him gently near your face.

"You didn't say goodnight," you said, reaching around, giving his curl a good yank.

"Fu-" his head dropped to the bed.

You erupted into a fit of laughter. These hair curls were the best thing you had discovered since America's scary movie fear! You clutched your stomach, gasping for air. Romano looked up, his face as red as a tomato.

"I _hate _you," he hissed, stomping off.

This only made you have more cackles. Best. Trip. Ever.

**…**

[1] fools in Italian.

[2] beauty in Italian.

_Just a little side note, Vatican City and Seborga are both Micronations in Italy, (that sounds wrong, doesn't it? Hetalia ruins our minds) as well as official characters. Though Vatican City hasn't actually appeared in the manga or anime, he's been mentioned._

_Vatican City is the place of St. Peter's Square and holds many important holy sights. Very beautiful and historic, but also considered the smallest independent state, with a population of about 800. _


	4. Prussia:Beerfest

_WARNING: ALCOHOL AHEAD._

_Nothing too serious, but just to be safe. I can't believe all the responses I've gotten in, what, a day? Thank you all for reading! ^^ So, here's another chapter! Three left after this, then the conclusion.  
_

_Oh, and "That's the power of German engineering." is trademarked by Volkswagen. Does not belong to me! Nor does Hetalia!  
_

_**...**  
_

You fingered the gold tomato necklace on the counter. The brothers, at least one of them, weren't as comfortable around other people as they were you. On the hair curl affect, you still had no idea what those did. Maybe you should do more research when you visited another country, on the land as well as the person. You smacked your head, but couldn't help smile. The look on Romano's face _was _pretty funny.

You stuck your dishes in the sink and started up a refreshing shower. Steam clouded the mirror, blocking the sight of your monstrous bed head. _Talk_ about embarrassing. Your next trip was nothing short of the term.

…

**Prussia:Beerfest**

After bidding the Italians farewell, you boarded for you next voyage: Dusseldorf, Germany. It was about a two hour flight, but luckily Italy had packed some leftover bread sticks. You munched on them, idly gazing out the window. This flight shouldn't be forced to land in Turkey.

You were off to see the stoic, blonde nation. Germany was a land-locked country, different from others you had been previously. It was nothing short of wonders or activities, though. You were excited to get your hands on some German clocks.

A beep woke you from your brief nap. Sleep had been lackluster lately, but that wouldn't spoil your trip. You grabbed your bag and shuffled out of the plane. Evening sun shone over the brilliantly green grass. You swear that they were having their cities prepped to look this good. This wasn't helping your growing envy at all.

Ludwig said that he would meet you at his house outside of Dusseldorf, so you hailed a cab, instructing the driver to the address. Recognition struck his face when you showed him the slip of paper.

"Beilschmidt," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

You were confused. Did Germany have a different reputation in his home country?

Past the old churches and new skylines, the taxi drove out to a less dense area, stopping at a fairly good sized house. You pulled your bag with you and started on the fenced path. The driver turned down the window.

"Good luck," he called, sarcasm hinting in his tone.

You scratched your head and continued. Just to be safe, you double check the address. Yup, definitely right. You brought your hand up and knocked on the white door. Sounds of dogs barking came from within.

"Blackie, Berlitz, hush!"

You stifled a laugh. Had Germany's voice gotten _higher_? It sounded like he had a cold.

The door opened up to a slender man holding back three large dogs.

"(name)? What are you doing here?"

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"What are _you _doing here? I was supposed to meet Germany."

"Well, I kind of _live _here. West is out in Austria."

You tilted your head to the side. Not another trip gone amuck.

"Kesese, oh man, West! He planned this meeting with Austria for months! Heh, I never thought he had it in him."

The silver haired nation stood in the doorway, laughing his same straining laugh. He was the one who you hoped to avoid.

"I guess I'll just get a hotel then. Well, bye."

You turned around on your heel.

"Hey, wait," he gasped through his laughter, reaching for you.

"You can still stay here. West probably forgot about your meeting or something."

You looked him up and down. He was still in his pajamas, at one in the afternoon. A silver cross necklace hung down from his neck with…was that blood?

"Hmm, I'd rather not," you said, a bit more sourly than you meant.

"Okay…but you know all of the banks are closed on Sunday."

You stopped. Damn it all!

He gave you a glinting smile.

"Rethinking my hospitality?"

You growled and pushed past him.

"Hey, hey, don't you want to enjoy the awesome sights of _Prussia_?"

You ignored him and petted the dogs.

"Please just call W-Germany."

He pouted and started toward the kitchen. You examined the living room. A half-eaten sausage sat on the table. You brushed any remnants of Prussia off the couch and stiffly sat down. The dogs followed you. You smiled and fed them the rest of the sausage.

A rapid German conversation took place in the kitchen, full of whining and what sounded like promises of not doing something. The phone clicked and he walked into the doorway, leaning against it.

"Hey, what happened to my sausage?"

You folded your hands across your lap.

"What did he say?"

"West said he's extremely sorry, bla bla bla, and he checked the nearest flight, but it doesn't take off until six. Which means it won't get here until late at night, or really early in the morning kesese."

You leaned back into the couch. You were going to have to stay here with the albino awhile. At least you might get a chance to relax, if he shut up.

"And he told me to take you out somewhere."

"What?" you jumped up.

He sneered.

"Not like _that_. I'm not planning on having any "fun" tonight, unless, of course, _you _want to…"

You rubbed your temples.

"Look, Prussia, I'm really tired. I just want to have a few hours to catch up on sleep."

"Uh, uh," he waggled his finger.

"West specifically told me to do something to occupy you, heh. He still wants you to have fun."

"Ugh, but-"

"No excuses!"

He yanked you off the sofa. You "politely" pushed him away.

"Fine. I'll go if you take a shower first. And change into something that isn't meant for sleeping."

"Whatever, _mom_."

He ran up upstairs.

You groaned and plopped face down on the couch. This was going to be a long day.

…

Prussia ran his hand along the shiny silver car.

"That's the power of German engineering."

You had to admit, the car was fast. All the way to your destination he had blared his music, so you weren't feeling generous enough to give any compliments.

"Let's just go."

He trotted after you.

"Oh no, you're not leaving me behind!"

So much for plan B.

You two walked side by side, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. A large banner stretched over a stadium. Lines of people reached out to the parking lot. They were practically packed in together. What event could be this big?

"What is this?" you asked.

Prussia beamed.

"Why, the annual Beerfest!"

"Could that be about beer?"

"Ha, ha, very funny, but it's not _just _beer. They have liquor, champagne, rum, all kinds! Man, you should see some of the bartender displays, totally awesome."

He could sense your faltering interest.

"And there's treats, activities, and clothes for the _women._"

You scowled. Alcohol was not one of your favorite things. Even a few shots could get you tipsy, so you tended to stray away from drinking. You figured this was going to be difficult with the huge booze head next to you. There was no way he was driving home, one of you had to stay sober. Yes, that would be your excuse.

You stopped at the end of the line. Jumping up on your tiptoes, you peered to see where it could possibly begin. The booths were just a blur.

"This is going to take forever! At this rate, we're lucky if we get in within an hour!" you exclaimed.

"Oop, too bad."

Prussia planted his feet in the pavement and pulled out a black iPod. He started to sing along while banging his imaginary drum set. You rubbed your face. Searching for any means of entertainment, you drew out your cell phone. _Service unavailable in current location. _You irritably snapped it shut. Could anything else go wrong?

…

"Prussia, we've been here for two hours!" you yelled at him.

He continued to sing loudly.

"Prussia!"

"What?" he pulled out an ear bud.

You glowered. If only you get your hands around his neck and just-

"Okay, okay, I'll see what I can do."

You cut out of line and followed him. His light hair was easy to pick out in a crowd. He stopped in front of a guard and began conversing. You wrapped your arms around yourself. Hopefully you hadn't given up your place in line for nothing.

"And my friend over here," Prussia motioned.

The guard stared.

"Hmm?" you looked up.

"Has something to show you."

You looked at him questionably. He beckoned his eyes to your chest. Your mouth dropped open.

"Wh-no, no! No!" you hugged your cardigan tightly.

"I'm so sorry sir, my _friend _is completely out of his mind. We'll just go back into line now-"

The guard held up a gloved hand.

"It's fine, mam. I'm sorry you have to be around swine like him. You go and enjoy the festival."

Shock overcame your face.

"Really? Thank you!"

You happily bounded past the rope.

"I knew it would work," Prussia said, taking a step after you.

The guard place a hand on his chest.

"I'm afraid that you are going to have to step back in line."

Prussia struggled against his hold.

"W-what? Are you kidding me?"

You watched from the other side and stuck out your tongue, running off into the stadium.

Prussia grumbled and trudged to the very end of the line. He had promised himself not to be let out of your sight. Guess that's what he deserved for trying to get you to flash.

…

You browsed around in little vendors' stalls. To your benefit, Prussia had given you some euros, in case you got separated somehow. You did feel a tad guilty leaving him like that, but hey, it was Beerfest!

A certain tent caught your eye. Sweet meats, fried and placed on a stick were advertised. You checked your pocket. Already, you had bought a nice wristwatch and some 30th anniversary Beerfest mugs. It couldn't hurt to purchase a few more souvenirs of your grand time at Beerfest. With Prussia's money of course. You_ did _just have enough to buy a treat.

You walked up to the vendor, a friendly blonde woman. She picked out the meat on a stick and pointed it at you.

"_Möchten sie ein_[1]_?"_

That was the disadvantage of not having the fluent German speaking Prussian around. No personal translator. You held out the euros and nodded.

She handed you the treat and thanked you. Once again, you nodded and walked off, snacking on the sweet meat.

Should you have gone back for Prussia? Sure, he was annoying and obnoxious, but he didn't deserve to be abandoned after he had been generous to you. Perhaps it was just his nature to act like that, meaning he'd repel any other people.

You stopped near a fountain in the middle of the hubbub. A small yellow bird flew in front of you, chirping madly. You raised an eyebrow. How did a bird get in here?

"Bah!"

You were jumped from behind.

You elbowed the pursuer in the abs and spun around, fists clenched. Who ever said you were defenseless? The person doubled over, choppy silver hair hanging in front of their face.

"Prussia?"

"Ow! Geez."

He straightened, rubbing his stomach. The yellow bird flew over and landed on his head.

"Sorry," you shrugged.

"Good job, Gilbird! You found (name). Before she assaulted us."

You snorted.

"_Gilbird?"_

He stuck out his chin

"Yes, it's an awesome name."

His eyes trailed down to your sack.

"Where did you-hey!"

His mouth dropped open.

"That was _my _money. I said you could use it if you had to!"

You bent over, laughing. The look on his face was just too much. He pouted.

"Oh-oh-"

You wiped tears from your eyes. From his expression, you could also see he was hurt. You stood almost to his level.

"Okay, how can I make it up to you? We can do whatever you like."

As soon as the phrase left your mouth, you regretted it. His devilish smile returned.

"Whatever I like?"

You nodded slowly. Well, maybe it couldn't be that bad.

…

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind," you said, stepping out of the dressing room.

Prussia nodded appraisingly, a hand on his chin.

"Now only if your hair was braided…"

He reached up. You swatted his hand away and guarded your hair. It was already enough wearing this _confining _traditional German dress, you didn't want your hair ruined as well. You probably were offending your country by agreeing to dress up like this.

"Oh, we're not done yet."

He led you outside the dressing tent to a cleared area in the stadium. A small decorated stage was set up. A man, also traditionally dressed, stood on it, announcing enthusiastically in German. Due to your current surroundings, you had polished up on your novice German. You caught one word amidst the ramblings: "dance".

"No," you shook your head.

"Yes."

Prussia took your hand, pulling you out to the center of the crowd. He slid a hand down your back, leading you with the other. His steps perfectly coordinated with the music; he knew it by heart. That smile never left his face, you were sure a grimace never left yours. He danced so rehearsed, you found yourself wondering who he had danced with before you.

Your mind wandered. Was he doing this because he wanted payback, or did he truly just want to dance with you? The damn tight dress better not play part.

His crimson eyes bore into you. The music slowed from quick hops to an intimate sway. You shifted uncomfortably. Why was your stomach acting up? Was the sweet meat spoiled? Prussia pulled you closer so your ear was near his mouth.

"You look nice in your dress, _frau_[2]_,_" he whispered.

"Hmph," you scoffed, trying to hide the rising heat to your cheeks.

What was the last thing he said?

The music was interrupted by the announcer.

"Ooh, my favorite part."

You both turned around to the stage. He appeared to be reading names from a list. Big, ruddy faced men stepped up on stage. They were seated at a wooden table. Behind them, kegs were being brought up along with dozens of glass mugs. Attendants hurriedly filled each one, white foam bubbling at the top. Prussia's face was filled with delight.

At last, the announcer was finishing up the list, then you heard what sounded like your name called.

"What?" you looked around.

"Go up there!" Prussia said, shoving you in front of the crowd. You turned your head around frantically, then grudgingly decided to head up the stairs. You took a seat next to the burly men, biting your lip. What did you get yourself into?

The announcer considered you with concern, then shrugged. For the first time, he announced in your language.

"Let the annual Beerfest drinking competition begin!"

Your face paled. Attendants rushed over and sat jugs of beer in front of each man and you. The men roughly grabbed them, gulping them down. You reached out to an attendant.

"Please, there has been a big misunderstanding! I didn't sign up for this!"

They recoiled away from you. _Oh god, oh god._

You could barely manage one glass of beer, not even compared to what your competition was chugging down. Your palms began to sweat.

Then you figured it out. _Him. _Prussia did this. He wanted to see you humiliate yourself in front of a huge crowd. He knew you had an aversion to alcohol, he knew you would fail. Oh no, not today. Now you were determined. You were going to win this drinking competition, even if it meant passing out.

You grabbed your first jug and gulped it down, full of new found vigor. The honeyed bitterness filled your tastes. You stuck out your tongue, but shook it off. There was already a noticeable gap between you and the men. The audience smirked and pointed in your direction.

Mind set on winning, you swallowed your second, then third. You wiped your mouth and instantly drank down five more. The man next to you raised his eyebrows. You faced him and drank two more. The table shook as you slammed down your empty glass. You finished with a satisfying, "Ahh". He raised his hands and stood up, dropping out. You couldn't believe it, you actually had a chance!

You started to lose count. It was down to you and two other men. Chanting came from the crowd. The third man shook his head in disbelief and fell back. Now it was down to only you and the other man. You faced each other and began a new glass of beer. He wiped his beard. Two filled glasses were placed on the table. The cheers echoed in your ears. He stared at the mug apprehensively. You took it, chugged it, and finished the next one. The man grumbled and pushed away from the table. Screams came from the audience. You had won!

"And the winner is…the German maid!" you understood vaguely in German.

You stood up wobbily.

"Ulber grape!" you cheered, pumping your fist.

The announcer grabbed a hold of your shoulder and started speaking lowly in German. Everything was fuzzy. He led you off the stage. You clutched your head and stuck out an arm, trying to steady yourself.

"I can take her from here," said a familiar voice.

You fell onto a skinny, yet strong body. He held your face, meeting his sparkling red eyes.

"(name), that was…_awesome_."

You ducked into his shoulder, the drunkenness overcoming you. Like any overly alcohol induced person, you started to babble crazy visions. Prussia laughed and rubbed your back. You never would've guessed he would've been the designated driver. He swooped your legs off the ground and carried you out. Your drunk body protested, pounding him blindly.

"Ow, you're no different when you're not intoxicated!"

He placed you gently in the car and strapped you in. You hugged the seat, beginning to pet it. Prussia shook his head, starting up the engine.

After half a drive of tipsy mumblings, you finally managed to get out something understandable.

"You-you know w-why I don't like you so much?" you hiccuped.

"No (name), why don't you like me?"

Prussia turned into the driveway.

"It's-it's because you're so…dang…" you paused.

He parked and faced you.

"Hot!"

You slapped his arm.

He dragged you out of the car to the bedroom.

"You are too (name). You are too."

He laid you down on Germany's bed. He probably wouldn't be home today anyways.

"Can I have s-some pancakes?" you asked, not letting go of him.

"Tomorrow."

"Oh, okay! 'Night Grandpa!"

Your body instantly fell limp, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Prussia chuckled and kissed your forehead.

"Sleep well, (name)."

**EXTENDED ENDING**

At 12:00 A.M. Germany arrived home. He shook off his coat and tiptoed up the stairs. Your luggage was still by the couch, he assumed you were sleeping there. His sighed. Couldn't Prussia had put his own needs aside for one day?

He opened the door, his hand hovering from the switch. A figure was asleep in his bed. Well, maybe his brother _was _gentleman, but that didn't mean he was taking his room. He walked silently over to the bed and gaped. There you were, dressed like a German maid, passed out in a puddle of drool.

"(name)," he lectured to your sleeping form.

"You get in the weirdest situations."

He had some questions for Prussia in the morning.

**…**

_[1] Would you like some? In German. Not sure if that's entirely correct...if not it's just "You like?" XD_

_[2] Woman in German. Used in endearing terms!  
_


	5. Switzerland:Defense

_Hill is a weird word…Hill. Hill. Hill. o_o. Ehem, Lucerne is such a pretty city! I recommend you Google images of it. No, really. _

**…**

Ugh, your head hurt just thinking about the next morning. The hot water from your shower ran down your spine, giving your goose bumps from the temperature change. You were lucky to have fit in a shower in your trip to Prussia's house, you slept late because of your hangover. Germany had kindly offered you some Alka Seltzer and pickle juice to help your throbbing head. You took the Alka Seltzer, feeling a tad better back to the plane.

You notched your head to the to the side, catching a glimpse of your pajamas rumpled in a heap. Those were a gift too, weren't' they? Oh yes, from your next trip!

…

**Switzerland: Defense **

You were feeling somewhat refreshed from extra sleep, but also equally drained from your first major alcohol intake in months. That wasn't going to get you down, though. You were looking forward to your next trip. The host rarely invited anyone to his country, apart from official business. It was a land full of cheese, chocolate, and always refused to take any side. Yes, you were bound to Switzerland.

You had to admit you were nervous. Vash was the lead producer of guns in the world, and unconventionally formal. You deemed he wouldn't care if you were dressed rather casually. Hopefully he viewed it as you were comfortable enough around him to wear a wrinkled top and mismatching socks.

A woman spoke over the speakers in Swiss-German, French, Italian, Romansh, and finally your language.

"Now arriving at Zermatt national airport. We hope you enjoy your stay in Switzerland. _Bis spöter_[1]!"

As soon as you arrived at the airport, you hailed a shuttle to your destination, the breathtaking city of Lucerne. Switzerland had specifically recommended it. He promised to meet you by the Reuss River, which was easy enough to find, considering it ran directly through the city. You stuck to the car window like a small child. It was simply stunning. The buildings had an old feeling to them. All of the colors were so vivid, as if they were freshly painted!

When the shuttle halted, you were already jumping out, practically skipping to the stone walkway. You squinted, spotting a scruffy blonde head of hair.

"(name)! (name)! Over here!"

A girl wearing a dark pink dress waved wildly to you. Switzerland's sweet little sister, Liechtenstein. You waved back and ran toward them, your rolling suitcase protesting against the stones.

"(name)!"

Liechtenstein enveloped you in a hug. Your head had a sharp prick from the sudden impact

She had taken quiet a liking to you, always inviting you over to her little country for tea parties and shopping trips. Your visits were full of girly activities, you sort of acting like an older sister. You didn't object, it was actually fun when she wasn't styling your hair in odd fashions. In your visits you had gotten to know Switzerland well, as he was usually there advising the whole thing. He'd grown to trust you enough to invite you over for the first time. When he called it sounded like _he _was inviting you, but now that Liechtenstein was here…

You laughed and hugged her back.

"Good to see you Lily."

You angled your head to see Switzerland.

"It was so nice of you to invite me here."

He nodded curtly. Perhaps he didn't feel relaxed around you, and had Lily as a companion. Liechtenstein abruptly pulled away, an expression on her face like she just recalled something.

"Gifts! We have gifts for you!"

She picked up the flat white box next to her feet and outstretched it to you. A wide grin spread across her entire face.

You opened the box, revealing…a pair of frilly pink pajamas. A small bow rested on the collar with your name embroidered on it. It wasn't something you'd normally pick out, but you could see she put a lot of thought into it, even if it looked like it was for an oversized preschooler.

"Isn't it great? Now you and big brother will be matching!"

"Matching?"

"Ehem, nothing," he coughed, interrupting Lily.

"This one's from me," he said, handing you a miniature red box with a white cross on it; the Swiss flag.

You delicately pulled off the lid. Inside was a pocket knife.

"I,um, don't usually keep weapons with me."

"It's a Swiss army knife. You always need some sort of protection, considering who _you _usually hang out with."

You swore you heard masked teasing in his voice.

"I don't know if I'll be able to get this through airport security, but…thanks. Thank you both."

You forced a wide smile and slipped the knife in your pocket. Did he have knives on him right now? Or…guns?

…

You passed many scenes on your way, all of which Switzerland humbly waved off. He planned a picnic on the green slopes overlooking Lucerne, promising an uninterrupted, peaceful evening. You were concerned the Swiss valued his solitude a little _too _much.

He stopped the car at the edge of a road. You all scrambled out, picking up the picnic supplies. You looked around, confused.

"We're having our picnic at the end of the road?

He shook his head and pointed up a steep incline. Light fog covered the top.

"I thought you said we were having a picnic on a hill. This is a-a mountain!"

He crossed his arms.

"I don't know what they call hills where you come from, but this is most definitely a hill."

"A _hill _isn't-" you stopped yourself.

Not the time to argue. Perhaps his sense of heights was off due to the Alps. You weren't prepared for hiking, but it was good to fit in a nice climb every now and then, even if you were suffering from a massive headache. You were _not _going to let it show, or act cranky. One grumpy person was enough. Plus it'd be tough to explain the previous night's charades in front of Lily.

You started up the grassy "hill", keeping an average distance behind Switzerland and Liechtenstein. _This is nothing! Pfft, do I even have a headache? Noo…_you desperately tried to convince yourself.

Halfway up, you were exhausted. Lily nervously checked back on you multiple times.

"I-fine, fine," you said, brushing it off.

Two more steps and it got to you. You dropped to your knees, panting.

"Oh dear! Swissy, (name)'s fainted!"

Lily bustled over to you.

"N-no, I'm fine. J-just give me a sec-" you said, trying to laugh, but It came out as a wheeze.

Switzerland knelt next to you.

"(name), it's only been eleven minutes…"

You tried to hide the stiffness in your face. It felt like an hour!

"You need to carry her, Swissy," Lily said firmly.

"Er, no, there's no need for that!" you said.

You steadied yourself on the ground.

"Why don't we just have our picnic here? The view will be just as good."

You crossed your fingers. Switzerland shrugged and started to lay out the blanket. _Yes._

"I guess not taking you to hike in the Alps was a good idea."

You scowled at him.

…

For your picnic, you had tuna salad sandwiches, water, and paper bowls of fruit with, of course, Swiss cheese. You noticed that the particular brand of cheese was from the supermarket, the cheapest kind. It also had a sale sticker on it. You picked it up and asked Switzerland about it.

"(name)!" he said in a preachy tone.

"Do you not understand the hardships, the struggles, just to earn a single coin? The taste is the same between these two cheeses, one just happens to be twenty francs less, and speckled in mold, but it is of the same quality! I prefer this brand!"

It sounded like he was trying to persuade himself.

"No, no, I buy this kind too. I just expected you to buy the rich variety. You have a _lot _of money."

He clasped his hands together.

"Erm, well, that is true…"

"(name), wait until you see big brother's house! It has three stories, an indoor swimming pool, and a shooting range!" Lily gushed.

You tried to maintain a blank expression. Did all your friends live in mansions!

After you finished your meal of moldy cheese, you stretched out on the grass, closing your eyes and enveloping the fresh scent of your surroundings.

"(name), you can't sleep yet! We still have games to play!"

Lily yanked you up.

"Uh, oh, what?" you groggily responded.

"Hide and seek. You're it! Count to ten!"

You stared at her.

"(name)!"

"Hmm?"

"Count!"

She slapped your hands over your eyes.

"Oh, okay. One, two, three, four, five,"

There was running on the grass.

"Six, seven, um…oh, eight."

You heard low laughter behind you.

"Nine…hey!"

You uncovered your eyes and turned around. Switzerland was hiding his mouth. He shook a finger.

"No cheating."

You groaned and turned back around. A blonde figure was running toward you.

"I thought you were supposed to hide, Liechtenstein!" you yelled.

You squinted at the purple and red clad person. Your face paled. That wasn't Liechtenstein. You took a step by Switzerland.

"Expecting anyone else today?" you said under your breath.

He glanced up from a book.

"No."

"Well-"

"_Bonjour _(name). Switzerland."

Switzerland grabbed a rifle out of thin air.

"What are you doing here, pervert?"

France held out his hands.

"Now, is that really necessary? I'm just here to see my two friends."

He pulled out a rose and winked at you.

"Two _very _good looking friends."

Switzerland stood up and growled.

"You're on my property, Bonnefoy! My house is over there!"

He pointed between a crack in the slopes. Your eyes widened. You thought that was just a toned down village.

"Come on Swissy, you never have any fun~ like with (name),"

He aimed his gun. France squealed and covered his head. You took this as an opportunity to get involved.

"Whoa, let's calm down,"

You stepped in front of the cowering nation.

"France, I'm spending my day with Vash, so could you please-"

"But (name),"

He got uncomfortably close to you. You grimaced and moved your head to the side, his breath tickling your cheek.

"Honesty, France-"

An arm snaked around your waist and squeezed you closer. Your limited strength caused you from being fully pressed against him. A maniacal gaze rested on you from the nation's blue eyes. Ugh, this was enough.

You smiled sweetly, creeping a hand around his neck. He cocked an eyebrow, eliciting his signature laugh. You grabbed a hold of his ponytail and gave it a hard yank.

"Ahh, my hair!" he patted his head.

Switzerland stepped in.

"You really are a complete imbecile for coming here."

He prodded his gun into the other nation's stomach.

"Ack, okay, okay, I'm leaving!"

He tilted his head so he could view you.

"_Au Revoir, _(name)~"

Switzerland fired a shot to the sky.

You could hear screaming all the way down the hill.

You groaned and plopped down on the ground. Right next to petty arguments, persistence flirts were your biggest pet peeves. France sometimes fell into both of those categories.

Switzerland appraised you with indifference.

"What?"

"You must learn to defend yourself better."

"Why?"

You were a bit insulted. Back there you thought you did pretty well! In a situation where you had to protect yourself, you considered yourself to be above average at least. He rubbed his forehead.

"You know why."

You tilted your head to the side, clueless. He sighed.

"You're a good looking woman, (name), there's plenty of men out there who would like to have you, but they might not be patient…or gentle."

"Okay, but I don't see what this has to do with defending myself."

He threw up his hands.

"Do you really not see what I'm getting at?"

You shook your head, unsure why this was making him so irritable.

"Well, whatever you're trying to say, I can defend myself perfectly fine."

"From a man twice your size?"

You nodded, sticking out your chin. The sudden incoming movement made you gasp. Switzerland hooked you off the ground by your arms. You squirmed against his iron grip. A predatory gleam rested in his eyes.

Seeing it as your only option, you rammed your head into his. He staggered, taken aback. Your head erupted into new twinges of pain. That did not help your hangover _at all_.

Not wanting to be proven wrong, you shook your head and tackled him to the ground. The air whooshed out of his chest. You offered a wide grin.

"Still think I'm helpless?"

His forest green eyes flashed with anticipation.

"Yes."

He brought up his legs under you, flipping you on your back. His arms pinned you to the soft grass. No matter how much you fought, he was still stronger than you.

You cursed. He had you stuck, and your brain pounded too much for another head butt. You thought over all your options. Then it clicked. Had your experience from France taught you nothing?

"Hey Swissy," you said in your best seductive tone.

You wrapped your legs around him and pushed him closer. A blush played at his cheeks. You brought your face closer. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away. Great, now you were going to _actually_ have to kiss him to win. You shrugged in your mind. It wasn't going to kill you…

"Oh-oh my. I'll just leave you two alone"

Instantly, you pushed away from each other.

"No, no, we weren't-it was- we were just-" you stammered.

Switzerland wiped his flustered face. Lily giggled. Inside she was cheering, "_Finally! Finally!"_

…

You struggled back down the monstrous hill. Switzerland trudged ahead of both of you in silence. Liechtenstein never wiped the smug grin off. You awkwardly stared out the window when you got to the car, directed to Switzerland's colossal homestead. You felt ashamed and worried. Had you angered him?

Lily poked you.

"I think you two should get married," she whispered.

You banged your head on the window, gritting your teeth from the pain. She erupted into a violent fit of giggles.

"Is everything alright back there?" Switzerland spoke his first sentence since the picnic.

"Y-yes," Lily gasped.

"But (name) had something she wanted to _propose._"

She practically screamed with laughter. You fought the heat rising to your cheeks. This had certainly made your list for "most uncomfortable car ride".

Switzerland drastically tried to focus on the road, but couldn't help gazing back at you in the mirror. You bought the cheap brand, you were unpredictable, you could even beat him in a fight. You were…his dream woman. He shook his head. You were…_you_! Why would you ever like him? And why, all of the sudden, was he infatuated with you? He gripped the steering wheel tighter. No, he couldn't like you. He didn't "like" anyone. He wouldn't get involved with situations like that, it made dealings too complicated. Switzerland was not interested in any foolish woman, he had a neutral reputation to uphold. But you…you were just so…He bit his lip. Stop it, damn mind!

…

You got settled in the guest room in your new baby pink pajamas. They were quite comfy. You tucked your feet under the sheets. Switzerland appeared in the doorway.

"You know where everything is?"

He couldn't meet your eyes.

"In your three stories of ridiculousness? I think I'll be able to manage for tonight."

He nodded and flipped off the light.

"And Vash," you sang.

He tilted his head to the side.

"I won."

**…**

_[1] "See you later" in Swiss-German. Different than just German!_

_Lily is short for Liechtenstein. I use that because I'm too lazy to keep typing out her full name. :P_


	6. England:Fright Night

_Meh, England is hard to write for. Him and Japan.  
_

**…**

You brushed through your wet hair and headed over to your closet. You picked out a simple shirt and sweat pants. After your busy week, you were just going to stay here, maybe browse the internet or check the economy situation.

Your wet feet squeaked along the floor. A black book sat on your coffee table. You shook your head, recalling who you had visited after Switzerland.

…

**England: Fright Night**

After prolonged goodbyes with Liechtenstein, you bounded to your next flight. A weight was lifted off your shoulders, as you were fluent in the next country's official language.

You were perplexed when the island nation had invited you, in a classy invitation, no other. Certainly you weren't enemies, the blonde mostly kept to himself. He was always a tad…huffy. But you had remained tolerant and patient, getting to know the nation better. You might even go as far to say you were friends, but he would shy away from showing around your relationship in public.

You tried to think back to the last time you had ventured to England. The rumors of the food had off put you, but the country itself was pretty nice. It had a rich history, with knights and castles. Ah yes, that was why you liked him.

Your plane dropped you off at the small city of Ipswich. England had the oddest names…You immediately hailed a cab to his house.

You smiled when you arrived. His house was humbler than your other friends', but had a homey atmosphere about it. You liked it. The window were darkened and the lights off. You sighed. _Please, please_, you couldn't be stood up again. Your last experience had not gone swimmingly.

You trudged past the small garden and knocked on the door. Shouts came in response. You slowly cracked it open and took a step inside.

"England?" you timidly called.

"I'm up here, (name)!"

You bit your lip and walked up the stairs. Everything was orderly and pristine. _He _had prepared for guests. A faint glow came from the room at the end of the hall. You parked your suitcase by the stairs and warily made towards it. You opened the black door to see an attic room with candles in a circle around…your eyes widened.

"What the hell?" you breathed.

England's torso was wedged in-between the floor, surrounded by strange glowing patterns. His face lit up in relief he saw you.

"Black magic again?" you sighed.

"Um, yes. I've been here for a bloody hour!"

You knelt next to him.

"You didn't…" you stopped.

He looked at you, beckoning.

"Get rid of your bottom half?"

"Oh, thank George no. My legs are dangling in the ceiling below. Could you, maybe, push me down?"

You gave him a weird look. His green eyes darted around.

"Okay, but I don't want to be turned into a toad."

"Bah, you wouldn't be turned into a toad. Now a newt…"

You placed your hands on his messy blonde hair before he could continue. His arms started to go through the glowing barrier.

"Good! Now I should be able to, agh!"

He completely fell through the barrier, which disappeared. A crash came from below. You ran out of the room.

"Are you okay?"

He stood up from the table wreckage, rubbing his back.

"Ugh, yes, I just hit my bum really hard on these…"

He gasped and picked up scattered black bits on the floor.

"Why did you have a plate of rocks on the table?" you asked.

He furrowed his bushy eyebrows.

"Those were the crumpets!"

"Oh…"

He dusted the rest of the "crumpets" off the floor and wiped off his hands.

"I guess we can't have welcoming appetizers. I know how much you wanted to try my cooking"

"Oh, yeah, mmm. Yum yum!"

You would rue the day you'd have to choke down his food.

"I swear (name), you're the only person who has real taste. None of those other wankers appreciate fine British cuisine."

He put his hands on his hips.

"I'll make more."

You coughed.

"No, no, you don't have to do that. I was hoping of sampling some of your restaurants!"

You prayed in your head. He shrugged.

"Your loss."

"Er, so what's planned for today?" you asked, quickly wanting to change the subject.

"Um, oh yes, a castle! Private tour, it doesn't get any better than that!"

"You know that much about it?"

He stuck out his jaw.

"Of course! I'm not some git who doesn't know anything about his own surroundings."

You held out your hands.

"Alright, that sounds fun."

…

When he said castle, you were expecting something more along the big, grand lines, not an isolated gray building that looked like it was about to fall apart.

"Er…it must have a thorough history," you said.

England smiled evilly.

"Quite right. It was owned by a treacherous army advisor. He was banned from the Royal Court by King Mark of Cornwall for unjust murder of one of the serving maids. The advisor plotted revenge, constructing his own keep and private armada. When his troops heard of his plans to attack old King Mark, a battle broke out between people loyal to the advisor and others to the King. All of them were brutally killed on the very grounds from which they trained. No one knows what happened to the advisor, though. Some say he was so infuriated by his soldiers, that he cursed the entire keep and anyone who would set foot on it."

You rolled your eyes.

"A haunted castle? Really?"

He shrugged.

"Who knows, some of the rumors could be true…"

England certainly kept his act up, but you sure wished he was making this up. Scary things were not your strong suit. You wouldn't scream and wail like most girls, but you would latch onto whatever was close or punch at disembodied sounds. Usually you would avoid anything that led to violence, which would lead to fear. It was all part of your theory; but you didn't want to look fearful in front of England. Mystical things were his bread and butter.

He pulled up in front of the crumbling castle. The gray clouds made it look ominous…no, no, you wouldn't start thinking like that. It was just another normal structure. England tapped on your window. Your hands were closed tightly around the seatbelt.

"Coming?"

"Y-yes," you cleared your throat. It had suddenly gone dry.

You gradually slid out of the passenger seat. Being calm, you fell a step behind the lean figure in a black coat. He ran his hands over a large metal door, engraved with pictures of roaring lions. It cracked open, revealing a dark entrance way.

You stepped inside beside England. The rug beneath your feet was worn, paintings hung crookedly, and the only source of light was the thin windows.

"Aren't there any other tourists?" your voice echoed off the room.

"Ha, this isn't public property. I have special access, being the home country tends to get you special deals."

Ugh, why couldn't he take you to a nice, safe attraction? You knew England wasn't the most cheery, rainbow person, but why would he take you to a cursed keep?

You heard a low creaking noise. There were no such thing as ghosts, there was no such thing as ghosts. You would stay close to England and everything would be fine. Admire the work of the walls…yes…

A sound of scurrying feet snapped you out of your safe trance.

"What was that?" you said, looking around frantically.

A small, dark figure scurried by England's feet. You yelped and stumbled back into a wooden chair. He stood, unnerved, watching it slip into a hole.

"Just a rat."

Stopping yourself from having a heart attack, you got up and smoothed your clothes. He beckoned for you to follow. Your footsteps mirrored through the empty hallway.

Arriving at a shadowy room filled with eerie statues, you couldn't help let out a small whimper. England paused and examined you with his emerald eyes.

"Are you actually scared?"

You meant to let out a laugh, but instead it came out sounding like a squeak.

"Please, you must be imagining things,"

He waited for you to show more reaction. You gave him a presumptuous look and strode ahead. Although you swear the demon statues were watching you, you persuaded yourself you weren't one bit panicky...

"I could _live _here," you scoffed.

A clicking sounded above your head. You froze. Hands met your back, shoving you ahead on the hard floor. Something clanked hard on the ground. You sucked in a breath and looked behind you. The sharp points of a metal grate missed your feet by inches. Your heart started to beat sporadically.

England was on the other side. He got up and traced his hand along the grate.

"Bloody hell…"

This castle wasn't full of vengeful spirits, it was full of _traps_.

"I'm going to try to find a way to release this, you try to find another route out. There's a courtyard that exits from either side. We'll meet up there. Watch your feet!"

He spun on his heel and jogged out of the hall.

"Wait," you whispered.

Your voice escaped him.

"Don't leave…"

…

You cautiously headed into other rooms, looking for any way leading to a courtyard. Or any windows you could jump out of. Fortunately, you hadn't encountered any more deathly traps. Never so badly in your life had you wanted to get out of a place, and you had been to France's house before. You just wanted to get to anyone, to England. He knew this place, he meant safety. Your supposed combat prowess wouldn't prove much use against specters.

You stepped into a narrow room full of rusty weapons. Knights' garb lined the wall. This must be the armory. You looked over a table with an iron mace resting on it. It might not be such a bad idea to carry around a weapon after all…

Groaning came from behind you. You spun around to a set of armor heading straight toward you, arms outstretched.

You bent over and readied yourself, resisting the urge to freeze up. No one goes down without a fight, even if it's with an angry poltergeist.

You observed the mannequin, there was a break in its armor at the waist. Thank goodness for all that medieval combat training. As soon as it got close enough, you kicked it right in the gut. It bent over and groaned. You picked up the mace and prepared to smash its helmet to smithereens.

"Urgh, wait, wait!" it cried.

You held the swing. That voice…

It stood up, clutching its abdomen, and threw off its helmet. You lowered the mace.

"Romania? What are you doing here?"

He started to take off the armor.

"Oh, you know me. I have to scout out any haunted place in the world!"

You creased your brow.

"This place must be pretty bad if you came all the way from Romania…"

He smiled, revealing his sharp canines.

"Tsk, tsk, (name)! Why would little you wander into such a _scary _place? You should be home coloring and watching cartoons."

You narrowed your eyes.

"For your information, I'm here visiting England. He planned to take me here as a fun activity...if you count this as a fun activity."

"Ohoho, _England?_" he cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

"Do you want me to kick you again?"

"Ack, no! I'm sorry!" he shielded his stomach.

"Then I need you to help me find a way out of here."

He looked at you with confusion.

"Why can't you go back with England? Where is the old boy anyway?"

"Apparently, I sprung some sort of trap. It blocked off the hall, separating us. He was going to try to find some way to disable the hazards. I have to meet him in the courtyard, except…I have no idea where I'm going," you admitted begrudgingly.

Romania was a burden you acquired early on, and he was nothing short of persistent. He had quite a few deals on you, which he proved he wouldn't forget. You swear he took pleasure out of blackmailing you.

You carefully watched each other at first, but then became somewhat of friends, at least, that's what he claimed your relationship was.

His red eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"Ooh, traps? This makes it a lot more fun."

"So you'll help me?"

You were relaxed to at least have someone at your side.

"Sure, I know the layout of this place fairly well. A couple of friends visit here occasionally."

"Er, _vampire _friends?"

You gulped.

"No, _ghost _friends."

You smacked your head. Were you acquainted with every lunatic?

…

Romania led you down more dark, gloomy rooms. He endlessly teased you about your fear.

"You know, (name)," he would say.

"If you think this is bad, there's _way _worse places in Romania. My home included!"

Maybe it was because you were so stricken, you put up with his inane chatter. He didn't get out that much, you guessed, best to let him babble away all his loneliness on you. You started to become paranoid, checking anything that slightly rustled. His voice faded into uncanny silence. By now, if you were by yourself, you probably would've broken down in a corner. You could thank Romania for not putting you at your edge.

You reached an open room, the night sky shining through the transparent ceiling. It was already night time? You were never going to get out of here!

Romania paused in his mumbling trance. You looked up, worried. He turned around to face you. You halted, wrapping your goose bump covered arms around yourself.

"Why are you visiting England now? The date is a bit…suspicious."

You tilted your head, not knowing what was wrong with the time.

"I've been going to countries endlessly for about a week now. Japan, Greece, Germany…"

"And you didn't think to stopover to me?" he pouted.

"Well, they invited me. I had to scrunch all of the dates together, since they all called about the same time."

He pursed his lips.

"Yet you don't find that odd? In the middle of February?"

"Why would that be odd?" you asked, bemused.

"Nothing, nothing," he shook it off and continued on.

You followed in silence. Why would that be weird? You were just having friendly stops with your worldly friends. It was just a coincidence that they called at the same time, requesting a meeting on the same date…You rubbed the back of your neck. Maybe Romania wasn't completely wrong. All they said is that they wanted to see you, and not specifically for business…In fact, they were all vague about the arrangement.

You shook your head. What else could they possibly have wanted? And February was just a normal month, the temperatures were nice. Nothing that special was going on. You followed, trying not to ponder what you had conveniently not noticed before.

…

Eventually, Romania had started back up again.

"Are we almost there?" you interrupted, stopping his descriptions of all the different flavors of blood.

He stopped, rubbing his chin. You gave him an impatient look. England was probably already there, waiting for you.

"(name), I don't ever recall tasting your blood…"

You got a fearful prick in your stomach. Perhaps you didn't think through your plan of having a vampire guide.

"It's not important. Let's just get out of here."

You pushed past.

"Oh, but it is. You see, I've tasted every other country's blood, but not yours."

He placed a hand on your shoulder. You bit your lip. He looked at you with nothing but hunger. You had known Romania a while, but he never looked at you like this.

"Romania, don't-"

"Would you be savory and thick or delectably bittersweet?"

He ran his tongue over a fang.

You jerked back, but he grabbed onto you with new found strength.

"I wonder…"

His ruby eyes now burned a dark crimson.

You _really_ weren't in the mood to be sapped of any blood. Romania couldn't submit to his beastly nature this easily, could you? Of your fear of scariness, maybe it was better if you stayed away from the vampire for a while.

"Snap out of it!" you said firmly, but couldn't hide the edge of fright in your voice.

"Don't worry, you'll only feel a slight pinch then, poof! A quart of your blood is gone," he laughed evilly.

He tilted his head and went in for your neck. You cringed and shut your eyes. You were going to _kill him_ after this.

"Get away from her, foul beast!"

Your eyes snapped open to a blonde haired man jumping on Romania. You recoiled in shock. He strangled him, crying out in rage.

"Ow, ack, get off me you idiot! It's me, Romania!"

England stopped pounding his face.

"Oh. Sorry, git."

He awkwardly climbed off his back. Romania rubbed his head, his eyes back to normal.

"Iggy!"

You ran and wrapped your arms around him. Completely by instinct, of course. He stiffened, but returned the hug. You buried your face in his coat, smiling. He was like you knight in shining armor…King Arthur!

"Ehem," Romania coughed.

Your eyes widened, realizing what you were doing. Quickly, you pulled away, heat rising to your cheeks. England stood there, a blush forming on his face as well.

"Erm, sorry, I-I was just scared and-"

His mouth turned up a bit.

"I _knew _you were scared. I heard you whining my name when I walked away from that grate."

Your face heated up even more. He heard that? Romania burst out laughing. You spun around, fists clenched.

"_You_," you growled.

"_You_ are going to have every single tooth knocked out of your mouth."

This time, his face filled with panic. You charged after him. He squealed in a very unmanly fashion and bolted away.

England muffled his laughs, watching you chase Romania around the courtyard. You were entertaining, to say the least. Even after you were obviously scared, you still insisted at staying in the cursed keep. He wasn't completely serious, taking you here. Himself, he had to admit, was a little startled by the place, yet you endured. He liked that about you, he always had.

"Britannia~" a high pitched voice sang next to his head.

"Flying Mint Bunny!" he exclaimed, twirling about.

"Hehe, I think (name)'s put a spell on _you_."

The creature giggled, chanting England and your names. That night turned into a round of cursing and chasing.

…

England drove you back to his house that night. You were happy to fully get away from that creepy place…and Romania. Being his usual gentlemanly self, he opened the door for you, leading you into his sitting room. You yawned. It had gotten late.

"We should get to bed. Today probably wore you out," he said.

You laughed weakly and nodded. You stood there in silence for a few moments. He shifted on his feet, his gaze on the floorboards.

"England?"

"Yes?"

He looked up instantly.

"Thanks for…what you did back there."

"Damn pale wanker was trying to drink your blood!"

"Well, still, thanks."

You looked into his eyes and inclined forward a bit_. What am I doing? _England abruptly grabbed you in his arms. Pausing, you started to stroke his shoulder. It was rare for the distant island country to show affection…

"It's all my fault, (name). I-I made you go there and-"

"Shh," you said comfortingly.

"I think you _more _made up for that. It was very…heroic of you."

You started to feel his heart pounding. _Nope, normal reaction. Lala!_

You started to pull away, which made him jerk back. _Crap._

"Um, well, I'm off to bed! See you tomorrow!" you said, too cheerfully, and speedily walked up the stairs.

You didn't take the time to admire the guest bedroom, just flinging yourself on the bed, angrily pulling the covers over yourself. _Freaking Romania!_

…

_Wow, I just realized how much I degrade France in these. XD_

_And if you're wondering, England and Romania know each other from the "Magic Club", which also includes Norway. That's one of my favorite groups. ^-^  
_


	7. DenmarkNorway: Fun Times of Freezing

_Yet _another _two person chapter. Groups in threes are easiest to write with for some reason. Well, anyways, yay Nordics! _

**…**

You surveyed your house outside the window, pressing your fingertips to the glass. A shiver went through your body at how cold it was. You scoffed. Who you had visited last; now _that _was cold.

…

**Denmark/Norway: Fun Times of Freezing**

When preparing for the warm Mediterranean climate of Greece and Italy, you had packed light clothing; your heaviest item being a flimsy jacket for England. Right as you stepped out of the plane to Copenhagen, the cold slapped you square in the face. Goosebumps formed on your bare arms. What a great day to wear a slinky, short-sleeved shirt. Having no coat at your immediate disposal, you rushed inside the airport.

You could picture the hardheaded blonde's expression now.

"_You didn't bring a coat to Denmark, (name)? Haha, you're such an idiot! It's one of the coldest countries in Europe!"_

Then his laugh. His headache inducing laugh. No, you wouldn't be seen as irresponsible. You scanned the airport. Your spirits lifted when you spotted a colorful coat shop. It was presumably there for other careless (or busy!) tourists like yourself.

You picked up your bags, a relieved smile on, and hustled over to the shop. Your foot floated above the entrance. You had to hurry, they could be here any moment…

"_Hei_[1], (name), we're over here!"

You cursed under your breath and turned around, a false smile plastered on your face. _So close…_

"Hi guys!"

Standing a couple feet away from you were your favorite group of Nordics. The towering men, Sweden and Denmark, were wrapped in long coats. Norway and Iceland stared blankly at you. Finland was the only one who had a friendly smile. There was more of a smug grin on Denmark.

"Did you forget a coat, (name)?" Finland retorted instantly.

You felt terribly out of place compared to your friends, who were all in parkas and boots. There was even snow outside!

"No. I was just examining the articles over here," you said, keeping a poker face.

"Um, then where's your coat?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunching worriedly.

"Er, it's in my bag. I don't think I need it, it's a little warm here, ha, yeah."

Denmark raised an eyebrow.

"You're surprisingly resilient to the cold. Copenhagen isn't kind in the winter."

"Anyways," Finland interjected.

"Let's all welcome (name) to the capital! She's a ways from home."

"Hi (name)," they all mumbled, except for Denmark, who announced it obnoxiously.

_He and Prussia would make great friends…_

Sweden took your bags and crammed them into a silver van. You smushed in-between Norway and Iceland in the back. Their body heat provided you some warmth. You had to resist grabbing them and hugging them mercilessly to keep you from forming into a block of ice. That might get you some weird looks, though.

"So what's planned for today?" you asked, keeping your mind off the temperature.

Finland gazed back at you from the front seat.

"Sweden and I have a short meeting to attend, so we won't be able to join you for the beginning of the evening. There's many things to do in Copenhagen, so you won't miss us awfully! Denmark, any suggestions?"

You crossed your fingers. _Please be indoors, please be indoors._

"Hmm, there's the Statens Museum. It has some cool exhibits."

You could see Norway roll his eyes. Relief flooded you. A museum, with heating and insulation. Heaven!

Denmark drove back to the Nordics' cozy house. They had an excuse for it being so big, since there was a lot of them. Sweden took your bags inside, wrapping his navy coat against him in the breeze. Afterwards, he and Finland took a spare car. You yet again reached the streets of the city. Finland stuck his head out the window.

"Be good to (name)! We'll meet you guys at the house later, no staying out at clubs until twelve!"

Denmark waved his hand.

"That's only happened…three times."

Iceland moved up to the front seat so weren't uncomfortably wedged between the two men, taking away a heat source. Denmark turned on the radio, which was in your unfamiliar Danish, and started back down a stone road. He and Iceland began a conversation about pastries.

"(name)?"Norway spoke lowly.

You locked eyes with the mysterious nation. It had been the first time since you arrived that he'd spoken to you. His light blonde hair had his signature crisscross clip on the side. His hair was really shiny…

"Yes?" you tried to speak in his same tone.

"Why are you wearing that flimsy outfit?"

He kept his expression emotionless, as usual.

Your face flushed. You couldn't reveal your incompetence.

"Because it's warm here…"

"If you didn't notice, there is snow on the ground. I know the climate of your country well enough to assume this is not _warm_."

Before you could make up something, the car halted.

"All right! Let's go to the museum!"

Denmark clapped his hands together.

"We've been there before…_a lot_," Iceland groaned.

"Hey, I'm the elder brother, so I decide what to do!"

"Maybe you should let your _guest _decide," Norway said dryly.

They all looked to you. You hadn't visited the capital much, your knowledge was vague.

"Um, we are already here…"

Denmark hooted triumphantly as Iceland banged his head on the dashboard.

"Sorry," you muttered.

You all headed up the marble steps to the imposing museum. It was uncannily empty, you expected it to be at least somewhat crowded. Denmark walked over to the shut doors and squinted. He frowned at a piece of paper.

"It's closed!"

Iceland said what sounded like a prayer of thanks. You walked out to the sidewalk. Patches of greenery were dotted with snow. Your breath puffed out in front of you. _Please let there be a nice, inside activity. _

After not being able to feel your fingertips, you got desperate. You pointed to a little building wedged to the of end of the street, pink neon lights flashing. Anything would be okay now.

"There, that looks like an entertaining place. Let's go there."

You quickened your pace.

Denmark burst out laughing, with Iceland covering his mouth. Norway just stood there, not even blinking. You tilted your head.

"What?"

They both gasped for air. Norway inclined his sharp gaze to you.

"That is a strip club."

You appraised the laughing fit disapprovingly. Why would that be out in the open like that?

"Oh. You two would know that place well."

"Hey, Denmark goes there more than anyone!" Iceland wheezed.

"Aw, why'd you have to rat me out like that, Ice!"

He punched the smaller nation in the shoulder.

Iceland punched him back, which resulted in another punch. You just stared as they cursed and scraped each other. Norway yanked Denmark's collar and separated the two. He hissed something in a Scandinavian language. They immediately straightened up.

You continued down the path. The chilly, unforgiving path.

"Ooh, I know!" Denmark piped up.

"Tivoli! That couldn't be closed!"

"Oh, no no no." Iceland said, backing up.

"We have been there _way _too many times! No way! I'm leaving."

With that, he stormed off across a grass clearing, leaving you with just Denmark and Norway. Polar opposites. You stood in a circle.

"Aw, Norge, you didn't leave me!"

Norway glared at the spiky haired man.

"I'm only here because I wouldn't torture (name) by leaving her alone with you."

He stayed oblivious to the insult and faced you.

"At least you're here on your own free will with me, (name)."

"I'm in a foreign country with no one else I remotely know. I'm sort of stuck with you."

You left out the part that you accepted the invite. Now that you thought about it, it wasn't clear which Nordic specifically invited you…

He pouted.

"No one likes me."

…

"What is Tivoli?" you managed to breathily ask on the way.

"Only the most _epic _place ever!" Denmark exclaimed, extending his hands to the sky.

"It's a theme park," Norway said.

"C'mon Norge, even _you_ have to admit it's awesome!"

He shrugged.

"As long as there isn't any drinking competitions," you grumbled.

You followed the spiky blonde down the curvature of the side street. Copenhagen wasn't exactly a big, shiny city. It had European row houses and splurges of gardens in the cloudy area. It would have been pleasant, if you weren't nearing hypothermia. When you would walk near a building, the heat radiating from it made you want to run and retreat inside. Denmark stopped away from an intricate array of shrubbery overlooking a palace, which was a glow with lights.

"I thought you said it was a theme park," you said.

"Oh, it is."

Denmark started to jog around the garden path, his breath puffs of air.

When you reached the edge, your mouth dropped open. It was like a whole separate village! A ferries wheel loomed over the golden fence, along with a faux pirate ship in a river. Even a Japanese styled building could be seen past the rides and restaurants. The frosted trees with lights draped around them made it look like a fantasy wonderland. Why would Iceland want to miss this?

Denmark smiled when he saw your astonished expression. He cut past the line of people, which sprang a few threats. Norway and you bowed your heads and followed. A fair haired lady was stationed at the ticket booth, smiling and handing out passes.

"Amalie!" Denmark called.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted him.

"Densen!"

She flipped her glossy locks around her shoulder.

"Back again so soon?"

He rested his arm on the booth.

"Ha, no, I just didn't want to wait in that ridiculous line."

She crossed her arms over her fitted white uniform.

"Do you have your gold pass?"

"Ah, that's the thing…but it's (name)'s first time being here!"

Her eyes flitted to you for a millisecond.

"_Alright_, I'll let you in, but you owe me."

She climbed out of the ticket booth, causing more complaints from the line. The way she strutted over and flipped her hair, it made you a bit irritated at her obvious flirting. You wondered…did she work at the previous establishment you had seen?

She pulled out a few red paper slips from her pocket.

"These are the ride and restaurant tickets. Don't lose them. Maybe I can meet up with you later."

"Um, yeah, maybe."

She winked.

"Have fun, Densen," she sang then walked off.

"_Hello, two other people here,_" you muttered.

Norway's mouth slightly turned up. The other nation spun around.

"Are you ready to have your mind blown, (name)?"

"Yes. Let's get a map, Norway."

You shoved past Denmark, dragging Norway by the wrist.

"You don't need a map with me! Hey, where are you going?"

…

There was an overwhelming amount of rides and restaurants to choose from. You went to the smaller rides first. The adrenaline heated you up a bit, plus you got an excuse to sit closer to the two heat-emitting nations. Lucky for you, you quite enjoyed carnival rides.

All of you climbed off a ride and started to examine the map.

"Ooh, I will be _right back_," Denmark proclaimed.

He ran off, heading toward a souvenir shop.

"Want to ditch him?" you asked.

"You read my mind."

You picked a calmer ride, since Denmark had left. He would've claimed that a boat ride in a lake was too "sissy", but the scenery around it was beautiful. If you didn't get to enjoy sights within the city, you'd settle for constructed theme park ones.

The lake was situated at the edge of the park. Asian inspired cafes and park walks surrounded you. There was a line of couples for the boat ride. They cuddled and laughed, unaware of anyone else. You furrowed your brows. Was Tivoli a popular place for couples? There seemed to be a lot out today.

You eventually made your way to the ride master. The boats had flamboyant red ribbons fastened around the edges. More of the love theme…The elder ride master smiled at your approach.

"Ah, another pair young lovers?"

You stiffened.

"U-um, n-"

He waved his hand.

"No need to be shy. You two paramours enjoy the ride."

"But we're not-"

"Go, go!" he laughed.

"Er, um," you said, standing frozen in your spot.

Norway stepped toward the boat.

"Aren't you going to help your _kæreste_[2]on the ride?"

Norway stared at the man, his mouth in a straight, toneless line. You bit your lip. _Oh please don't choke him._

To your disbelief, Norway outstretched his gloved hand to you, his expression not changing in the slightest. You couldn't help but drop your mouth. The only time Norway made a gesture like that was, well, never!

Norway and the man's wavering gazes rested on you. You gulped and delicately placed your hand in the northern nation's. He guided you onto the boat, his hand gently setting yours down. The ride master pushed you off to a paced start.

Norway sat cross legged across from you, peering vacantly. You rubbed the back of your neck.

"That was a bit weird, haha…eh."

You cleared your throat.

"So, are you familiar with boats?"

You forced a smile. _What an idiotic question!_

Norway grimaced and flicked the wood.

"Not this flimsy type."

"Ah, the Viking era. Well, they have a ton of these types in Italy. I rode one in Venice called a gondola! Sometimes, the driver would sing!"

He wrapped his arms around his knees.

"I wish my country could offer such experiences."

Your face flushed.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that! Um…"

His deep violet eyes bore into you.

"I mean, Norway has snow and those pretty sweaters! You can't go sledding year-round in Italy."

"Aren't the Italians known for their…excellent lovemaking?"

You could feel your face heat up, which was actually kind of nice because of the cold.

"Uh, well, I do know about that…Oof, no, I've never done, uh, _that_ with Italy or Romano!"

He paused a moment.

"Would you have liked to?"

"No! No, no!" you instinctively shrieked.

People in the other boats gave you odd looks. More heat rose to your cheeks.

"I- oh, ugh," you buried your face in your hands. How were you supposed to respond to that?

Norway was the bluntest person you'd ever met! How did a conversation go from boats to Italian, er, deeds! You tried thinking of different topics, ones that could no way relate to that.

"(name)?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you decide to visit?"

You looked up from the boat floor.

"You invited me." It was more of a question than a statement.

"I know, but you sounded like you were cramming for a place in your schedule, and you and Denmark don't always get along."

You smiled.

"I always enjoy seeing you! Of course Denmark is annoying, but so are half of the other countries."

He touched his chin.

"Do you find him attractive?"

Your smile instantly morphed into a look of surprise. How could anyone prepare for his direct questioning?

"U-uhm, why do you ask?"

Best to answer a question with a question. You didn't want to hesitate, or he might get the wrong idea.

"Many women find his tall, muscular build and hair irresistible."

"_Please_, he probably uses a lifetime's worth of hair gel in that thing."

"What kind of hair do you like, then?"

"Hmm, I don't really have much specific preferences. Smooth, light texture, I guess. Kind of like yours," you blurted.

_Oh poo._

But, it was true! You could go on and on about his hair…and eyes…the coloring was just so unique!

"Are you trying to woo me, (name)?"

His tone lightened a little.

"No! Your hair is just…really nice."

You decided to take the upper hand in this.

"And besides, it was _you_ who oh-so-sweetly took my hand and led me in the boat. If I didn't know any better, I'd say _you _were the one trying to, um, woo me."

He cocked an eyebrow. Haha, _he _was caught off guard now! You resisted buffing your nails on your shirt.

"Judging from how you were pushing against me in the car, I was just returning the favor."

You could feel your stomach do a flip, but kept composed. Norway could be beat in his own, awkward conversation game.

"Oh? I saw how you looked at me when I was walked beside you. You were checking me out."

You put extra emphasis on the last sentence.

"Actually, I was contemplating your resistance to violently shivering. It is cold, isn't it?"

You saw a slight devilish flash in his eyes.

You blushed and slumped, digging your fingernails into your arms. No, he couldn't win! You wanted to be the master of uncomfortable conversations, as is seemed every one of your trips had that feature to them. You flipped your hair, mimicking the ticket girl, and lightly brushed your hand over Norway's leg. Oh gosh, you were going to look back at this incident and…

"I know some things that could warm me up…" you managed to get out without laughing.

Oh yes, you had learned a lot. A few men on the boats whistled at you. As an added bonus, you leaned forward and winked at them. Their female companions slapped them across the face, sending a glare your way. No matter how completely stupid and embarrassed you felt, being so out of character, you wanted payback. Payback for all of the awkward conversations you had to endure!

Slowly, Norway leaned closer so that his head was touching your cheek.

"I didn't know you could be so forward (name)."

You opened your mouth to retort something back, but was interrupted by Norway's sudden grasp of your jaw. He looked over you with his deep eyes, then pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes widened, your stomach going mad. H-he was…_kissing _you! Norway! You slightly squeaked, but it was muffled by his lips. There was no way you could counter _that_.

Or could you? He expected you to react like this, to get flustered and pull away in shock. I mean, it certainly _was_ addling, but you had determination. You grabbed his (very nice) hair and deepened the kiss. You swear you saw his floating hair curl twitch. His usually bored looking eyes shot open, full of something new. You resisted biting your lip. _This _would be remembered as your first kiss…You felt his hand tighten around your back.

"Hey, you guys!" a familiar voice rang from the shore.

You both immediately flew away from each other. The spiky hair stood out of the crowd. Had he seen you?

"Denmark, h-ah!"

Your hand slipped from the edge of the boat.

"(name)!" Norway said, sounded the slightest bit panicked.

You saw your feet fly up, then ice-cold water submerged your arm. _Splash!_

…

If you were cold before, now you were absolutely _bone chilled_. You walked in-between Norway and Denmark, shivering and wet. Your skin also itched, which made you assume the water was treated with something. Denmark sheltered you from people's imposing stares. You stopped under a tree in the gardens area, where spots of people were picnicking.

"I'll go find some hot food and blankets," said Norway, running off.

Denmark shifted on his feet. You were shivering uncontrollably, but you had to hang in there, at least until Norway came back.

"You did forget a coat, (name)."

"N-no I d-didn't!" you chattered.

Denmark sighed.

"Sometimes you are just too stubborn."

He started to unbutton his black coat. Your teeth were clattering too violently to protest. He wrapped it around your shoulders. It hung almost to your ankles. You hugged it tightly and sighed in relief. He smirked.

"Why didn't you just tell me you didn't have a coat?"

"B-because you would've made f-fun of me."

"You almost froze to death because you didn't want me to pick on you?"

You nodded, your wet hair sticking to your face. Denmark's usual ridicules were enough to put up with, but he would never let _this _story go. You could feel tears well up in your eyes from frustration. Everything had been going wrong! It seemed anytime you visited one of your friends, you'd complicate things or caused some untimely situation. You just felt like a burden.

"What's wrong?" his voice was soft.

"I-I've done nothing but caused you troubles," your trembling teeth masked your shaky voice.

"I'm j-just going to catch the next flight out of here. Here's your c-coat."

You started to strip the long fabric off of your damp body. Denmark's blue eyes flashed.

"No. No, (name) don't."

You stopped to meet his gaze.

"Your visit…was the highlight of this whole month. I love being with Finland and everyone, but sometimes they just seem tired of me. A major conference hasn't been held in a while, and events have just been slow. Heck, the most exciting thing that's happened was Norway's butter shortage!"

That made you laugh.

"We've all been to Tivoli, many times. It was fun to see your reaction, to get enjoyment out of just knowing that you're having a new experience here."

He got a faraway look.

You bit your lip. Kissing Norway _and _Denmark giving a heartfelt speech, all in one day? This was a monumental date indeed! You shouldn't ruin it by dumping your feelings out.

Denmark stepped closer to you and pulled you into his arms. You buried yourself in his warm chest.

"This is only happening because I'm cold," you muttered.

"Yeah, sure," he hid a laugh at the end.

"It is!"

You poked him in the stomach.

You stayed silent for moments, basking in the new found hearth. Eventually, you stopped shaking. You would never appreciate a coat the same way. Only the tip of your nose was still frozen.

"Thanks, Denny," you said, trying to pull away.

He still held you. You squirmed.

"Denmark…"

He made a small noise.

"Let go," you said firmly.

"No."

He sounded like a child.

"I saw you and Norway _really _close in that boat," he continued.

"What were you doing…?"

You were glad he still held you, or else he could've seen your instant blush. Then you came up with a plan.

"Let go or I'll kiss Norway again."

He backed away in shock, his mouth gaping open.

"What?"

You crossed your arms over his coat.

"Um, yeah, I-"

You stopped when you noticed the other northerly nation standing to the side, woolen blankets and steaming cocoa in his arms. His line of sight lingering on Denmark's layer on you, his expression blank as ever. You put on a bad poker face.

"Good, you got the stuff! Let's go find a place to sit in the gardens."

You turned around and headed to the green, grassy field. This time you were in the lead, not wanting to face the two Nordics.

…

You pushed marshmallows around in your cocoa. The atmosphere between Denmark and Norway had changed drastically. Denmark sat in his long sleeved shirt, his face shifting from confused to upset to angry. Norway hugged his knees, ever so often his composed forehead deepening. You noticed how fast they drank their cocoa, most likely burning their tongues. That in mind, you easily guessed they were upset at each other, but why?

A long blanket was spread on top of you and, you remembered, your extra garment.

"Oh, here's your coat back, Denmark."

You started to slip your arms out of the sleeves.

"Keep it on," he said in a tone that was not of his usual whim.

Norway notched his head and glared, his mouth behind his crossed arms.

"You should take it off," he said lowly.

Denmark placed an arm across your leg.

"_(name) _is keeping it on."

"She was taking it off until you commanded her."

"I didn't command her!"

"Yes you did."

"_No_, I didn't!"

They leaned in closer and closer, athwart your lap, arguing. You'd never seen the duo like this before, it was worrying.

"Guys, settle down!"

You placed a hand on both of their shoulders, trying to calm them. They both slumped.

"Now say you're sorry."

Denmark stuck out his lip.

"No."

You punched him in the arm.

"Ow, okay! Sorry Norge."

A masked smile crept onto Norway's face.

"I'm sorry for slipping laxatives into your cocoa."

Denmark clutched his stomach.

"W-what? How?"

"I put in enough for two people."

Denmark paled and stood up.

"We're going home. Now."

…

Finland, Sweden, and Iceland were all still out, so you decided to take a long, hot shower. It was a pleasurable difference from the icy lake water you took a dunk in. You came out smelling like pine mixed with peppermint, your hair smooth. The shampoo was probably Norway's. Is that how he kept his hair so nice? You looked at the label, and, unluckily, it was in Norwegian. You shrugged and slipped it into your bag. A travel souvenir from your Nordic friends!

You only had your light pajamas clean. The Nordics probably had heavy blankets, anyways.

Once you arrived in your bedroom for the night, you stretched out widely. Tomorrow, after hours of airplanes, you would arrive home, your humble relations changed. You ran your fingers through your wet hair. So much could change in a single week.

The rap of knuckles on the door awoke you from your reminiscing.

"Um, ugh-"

You threw on a blanket around your flimsily covered body. Stitching of reindeer ran along the sides. They wouldn't notice your light clothing under the blanket.

"Come in!"

Denmark peeked his head in. Even before bed, his hair stuck up. You half smiled.

"All of the laxatives out of your system?"

He groaned.

"I'm not sure."

"Then don't plan on staying in here tonight!" you laughed.

A pinkish tint appeared on across his cheeks.

"N-no, I didn't mean it like-"

You smacked your face. A simple "goodnight" couldn't have sufficed?

Norway's head popped up from behind Denmark's shoulders.

"Um, goodnight you two," you said, wanting to end this scene.

"'Night (name)," they said simultaneously.

You smiled.

"So you both made up?"

"No," Norway said.

"Denmark said to act like it so you wouldn't be concerned."

"Oh."

You slumped.

"_I will kill you," _Denmark hissed to him.

"Maybe we should all sleep on it," you interjected quickly.

They nodded, disappointment playing on their faces.

"(name)," Norway said, his back turned.

"Bring winter clothing next time."

You threw the blanket over your head. Yup, they definitely noticed.

…

_[1] "Hey" in Finnish, can also be used in Danish. _

_[2] "Girlfriend" in Danish._

_The average temperature in Copenhagen in February is around 36-28 degrees Fahrenheit, just to give you an idea of how cold it was._

_And…there has been a total of four different nicknames used in this chapter! WOW!_

_All that's left is the conclusion! Keep reading!_


	8. Conclusion

You shook your head. No more flashbacks today! Outside the window your mailbox looked _stuffed;_ some tissue paper flying out of the forcefully closed opening. You clapped your hands together. Deliveries didn't come that often for you.

You ran outside in your slippers and retrieved the mystery package. It was triangular, but very light and not exactly solid. And look, it wasn't even an official item of sorts from your boss! Excitedly, you set it on your kitchen counter and tore off the paper.

Your eyes widened. It was a bouquet of cream colored peach blossoms, imported from the east. A small slip of paper floated out. Amateurish scribbles in your language read:

"From Japan.

Happy-"

The frantic ringing of the doorbell made you jump. You groaned. After this week, you didn't know if you could take any more visits.

You stuck the flowers temporarily in a tall coffee glass and sprinted to the door. Probably just your neighbors, complaining about your vacant, unkept home. You turned the doorknob and gasped. The _last _person you'd expect was-

"England!"

He held one hand behind his back, nervously scratching his neck with the other.

"Er, um, 'ello, (name)," he said softly.

You recovered from shock and beckoned him inside with your hand. Definitely not prepared for a stopover from _him_.

Your rubbed your head in disbelief. What was he doing here? And unannounced! England was the type of person who would call, or leave some sort of indicator he was coming! Your eyes trailed around the room. It was a _mess_. You didn't have time to pick up after your arrival yesterday. Would he take you as a slob, after coming to his tidy house?

England stood by the couch. He subtly set his hidden object down beside it. You craned your neck to see.

"(name)."

You adverted your attention to him. His green eyes focused down on his shifting feet.

"Yes?" you said gently. He seemed to be bothered.

"I, um, oh bullocks, I don't really know…"

He dug his fingernails in his dress shirt. You tilted your head to the side.

"It's okay, you can tell me whatever you want, England."

He exhaled sharply and met your gaze.

"(name), I…I-"

The violent knocking on the door stopped him.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone today…I will be right back," you said apologetically.

He smacked his forehead. You jogged to the door and opened it. A snow haired man stood there, clutching yet another masked object in his arms. He had an impatient expression, but bit his lip earnestly. His red-violet eyes snapped to you.

"(name)," he said, not as smug as usual.

You crossed your arms.

"Prussia, what are you-"

"Thanks for inviting me in."

He shoved past you. You stomped your foot. _No one _was supposed to be here! You were not dressed to entertain guests! All you wanted was a day to yourself, to relax, before you had to get on the busy meeting schedule again. Your boss only gave you vacation time twice every year!

"The hell?" the Brit exclaimed.

You ran back to your living room, where the two men were now standing defensively.

"Why are you here, Kirkland?" Prussia remarked.

"I could ask the same of you, wanker."

England's gentlemanly demeanor was gone. You stood in the front in a daze, but you did wonder why they were here, interrupting your alone time. They couldn't simply be visiting. It must've been important, to come over right after you had left from their houses.

"Um, let's all calm down," you said.

You didn't want to have to do any more cleaning up than necessary.

"Just...sit down for a moment. I'll go, um, make some tea. Any preferences?"

England waved his hand, massaging his temples.

"Yeah, sugar," said Prussia.

"Don't call her "sugar"," England growled.

"I was talking about the tea, idiot."

"Git."

"No fighting!" you called, running off to brew more tea.

You took out some bags of your leftover citrus lemon and dumped them in your teapot. Pretending to occupy yourself with the preparation, you assessed the situation. Prussia and England somewhat got along; they used to be allies! Why were they squabbling like this? And why did they arrive at your house without consulting you or each other? This couldn't be a mere coincidence, _again_.

You placed the pot on the stove and walked back out to the living room. The two nations sat bristling away from one another. You took a breath.

"_Bzzzt!"_ your cellphone vibrated on the coffee table.

Yet again, you gave them an atoning look and flipped open your phone.

"Hello?"

"Um, yes, (name)?"

A prick went through your body at recognition of the voice.

"Swissy?"

You heard frustrated shuffling from the other line.

"I'll forgive you for calling me that…today."

Pause.

"Not to sound rude, but is there a reason you called? I'm sort of involved at the moment…"

Your eyes trailed over to the two indifferent countries.

"Actually, there is. I have something to confess,"

The sound of faint arguing from outside disbanded your attention. You squinted to see if anyone was nearby.

"I'm sorry, but I think there's some angry delinquents outside my house."

You threw the phone over to the couch.

"Someone talk to Switzerland!"

Both nations flew away from the phone as if it were on a murderous rampage. You opened your porch door, taking off towards the yelling. Today was a popular day for you, much to your dismay. Would you ever get a chance to relax now?

You stopped to the side of your house to see your two extra friends having a debate. There was plenty of exuberant hand gestures from either of them.

"Turkey? Greece?"

They hushed themselves.

"Oh, um, (name)! Hello!" Turkey said cheerfully.

Greece narrowed his eyes.

"Don't try to cover it up, old man."

"I am not old! I'm just _classy_."

"That's exactly what an old man would say."

"Hey! You-"

"I hate to interrupt you guys," you said.

"But why are you both here?"

Turkey scoffed.

"I just happened to run into olive licker over here on my way over."

"Okay, then why are _you _here?"

He laughed nervously.

"Ah, yeah, about that…"

A shrill noise came from within. Greece ducked and covered his head.

"Oh! The tea!" you cried, running back inside.

Turkey and Greece both looked at each other, shrugged, then followed you. When they came across the two other countries, (and it looked like Italy and Romano had shirked their way in somehow) plus one peeved one on the phone, they knew they wouldn't get down to their true purpose for coming here. As long as their equally stubborn counterparts were here, you were going to have a room full of regions to deal with. Their gazes wavered to one another, well, except for Switzerland. Somehow, they had to get you alone, away from everyone else. They couldn't bear the thought of you picking one of the others! Now it was a race. A race to you.

You hurriedly poured the tea into seven cups, managing to spill on your counter. Oh well, you'd have to clean that up along with the rest of your house later, but right now, you priority was to keep them from killing each other in your house. Or else you'd have even _more _to wipe up.

Carefully, you guided the tray of beverages in your sitting room. Turkey sat in a chair across from the sofa that Prussia and England were lounging on, with Switzerland's voice complaining loudly. Greece leaned against the wall, next to Italy and Romano. The cups clinked as you sat them in front of each man. You viewed the room, your hands on your hips. This was a difficult position to navigate.

"Um, so…" you began.

"Let's-"

Once again, you were interrupted by the doorbell. You grumbled and spun around. Who could it be this time? You swung the door open, having to notch your head up. The generally unmindful Nordic stood in front of you, blushing. As he tried to give you a smile, the corners of his mouth twitched.

"_Dav_,[1] (name)."

"Um, hello Denmark. Right now, there's…" you faltered.

A hair curl floated above his shoulder. You scrunched your brows.

"Is Norway with you?"

"No. Why?"

"Because there's a thingy."

You pointed. Denmark turned slowly.

"I-ah, god! How long have you been there?"

The brusque nation came into view.

"Long enough."

"Um, why don't you both come inside?" you tiredly offered, not wanting to be impolite.

"There's already some people here."

They both craned their necks past your frame.

"Come join the party! It's a _blast_," said Prussia.

"Shut up," said Romano.

"What? What's going on? Who's there?" yelled the phone.

Denmark slumped into the only remaining area. Norway stood sullenly behind him.

"Well," you said.

You racked your brain for anyone else you might've visited. Unless the rest of the Nordics, Seborga, or Romania showed up, there was no one else. All of your friends were either glowering or looking nonchalantly to the side. The tea sat untouched.

You figured they all must be here for some reason, but at exactly the same time? Just like the invites. They obviously weren't expecting each other. And…your eyes trailed over to a bundle of flowers…they brought gifts. Panic filled your stomach. Did someone _die_? Oh France, he was so young…

"(name), is something wrong?" Greece asked.

"No, it's just,"

You shook your head. Just get it out! It wasn't like it was a big personal question. It _felt_ like that, though.

"Why are you all here?"

The room fell flat. Denmark slanted his head.

"You mean you don't know?"

You shook your head violently.

"No! What is so special about today?"

You remembered what Romania had mentioned about February and all of your invites, saying it was questionable. This whole ordeal now made you think he was correct, about whatever he was trying to point out to you.

"What is going on?" you asked breathily.

There was silence.

"Agh, someone just tell her!" Switzerland yelled.

You looked at all of their expressions. Nothing came to mind about this date. _At all_.

"Does she even celebrate it?" Turkey asked.

"Of course! Everyone does." Italy said.

You whimpered.

"(name)," England said gently.

"It's Valentine's Day."

Your face immediately started to go red. _Oh_.

…

Now, you had been faced with many unexpected situations in your life. It wasn't that you were _completely _oblivious, you just sometimes were…forgetful. Hey, who could blame you? You were a busy woman. A busy _country_. But there wasn't any excuse this time. All of the clues had been plainly laid out before you, and you missed them! Now, you realized, what Valentine's Day was truly about.

Beforehand, you ignored the gushy, sweet-inducing holiday. It was for normal people. People who had the time and money for another person. All of the couples parading around, it got on your nerves. Just as many had advised before you, relationships were a sticky business if you were representing an entire nation. Valentine's Day was purely for lovers. Normal, mortal lovers.

In the excruciating silence of your own living room, full of good looking men, another realization came to you. Your "friends" were all here…on this lovey holiday. Even though they still hadn't expressed their purpose, you were beginning to fit this all together. The presents, the embarrassed faces, the fights. There couldn't be any other reason.

"You guys want money."

Romano slapped his forehead.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't give you _all _loans."

You paced. You understood it now!

"All of you invited me over, offered me a great time, and then came here on _Valentine's Day_ to butter me up."

Prussia flew into the back of the couch, his hands on his face. There was an assortment of sighs from the room. They _should _be acting like that, after all be caught going after your earnings!

"I cannot believe all of you were _that _desperate. C'mon, I know for a fact that some of you are _way_ richer than me. I must be really gullible, huh?"

You slumped.

"(name), that's not why-"

"Uh, uh, I don't want to hear it!"

You put a finger on your chin. Although they _did _try to scam you, they were still your friends, and they did come all of the way here.

"I'm afraid my house can't accommodate all of you, but I will let you stay a little longer. You guys need to get your financial issues straightened out."

You put a finger in the air and proclaimed:

"I will make dinner!"

As you headed to the kitchen, all of the nations in the room were in disbelief. They could all agree on something: you wouldn't figure out why they were here, unless someone just came out and said it. But, who could do that when everyone was watching? You weren't the type of person who would discount everyone else, at least when you were in the limelight. They _had_ to get you alone, before anyone else could.

…

You brought out a plate of food, unique to your country, unaware of the plans unfolding in the men's minds.

"(name), I need to talk to you for a second."

The other nations glared. Of course it had to be him.

"Prussia," you acknowledged, following him down the hallway.

He stopped at the end, back facing you. A long inhaling circled around him. You clasped your hands. It must be serious, for the all-awesome Prussia to act tense.

"Yes?" you questioned.

He smoothed down his black dress shirt and turned around.

"Do you really think we're all here because of…money?"

"Of course! What else could it be?" you scoffed.

He was acting awfully stern. His red eyes narrowed tiredly.

"(name), what is Valentine's Day about?" he asked slowly.

You crossed your arms. He spoke to you like you were a little kid!

"Love."

He held out his hand to motion to the living room.

"Exactly! Now, all of these nations are here because…?"

"Money."

He groaned.

"Okay, I'm just going to get it out. (name), I l-"

"Ehem!"

You turned around at the cough. Romano stood in the hallway, looking more irritated than usual.

"(name), I'm going to have to take you away from this potato bastard."

"Too bad. (name) and the awesome me were having a conversation first," Prussia said sharply.

"Breathe, Gilbert. I won't be long, right Romano?

Romano smiled, his eyebrows arched evilly.

"No, it won't take long at all."

Prussia growled. You followed Romano into the bathroom. He shut the door.

"Um, why are we-"

The look in his eyes made you stop. He took a step closer to you.

"(name),"

His tone was low. Your eyes widened. This was an interesting way of asking for some cash.

"I know there are many other bas-uh, _countries_ who want you, but-"

His voice faltered. He started to reach up to your face. You stood there, frozen. A blush was creeping up on both of your cheeks. You could see him start to incline his head sideways.

"I-I," he stuttered.

The sudden slamming of the door made you both jump. Greece stepped in the bathroom, looking tired, but with a hint of annoyance. He gently grabbed your shirt collar.

"Chigi! Where are you taking her?"

You gave the appalled Romano a sheepish gaze and you were tugged away by the Mediterranean country. He stopped in your bedroom, closing and locking the door. You bit your lip. Greece was known for his…_experience _in the bedroom. But he wouldn't-no! This was _your _house.

He turned to you silently, his green eyes full of something you recognized only after years of knowing him. You glanced away to your closet. There was nothing but uncanny silence. It was unusual for you to feel nervous enough to not be able to utter a word. You took in a breath.

"Um, was there something you wanted?"

He nodded. You waited a few seconds for him to respond. He just stood there, blinking.

"What do you want?" you asked again.

A light smile played across his lips. He pointed in your direction. You looked behind you.

"You want my, um, flyswatter? I do use that sometimes…"

He shook his head and poked your forehead. Your senses tingled at his touch.

Slowly, your mind processed his action.

"You want…me?"

He opened his mouth to speak.

"Ha!"

A figure stumbled out of the closet, your clothes toppling onto him. He stood up and shook himself off. Greece clenched his jaw. Your mouth fell open.

"Turkey, what were you doing _in my closet_?"

He waved his hand.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. But I have to speak to you. Right. Now."

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Can it wait? I'm in the middle of-"

He yanked your arm and forcefully unlocked the door.

"No!"

Before Greece could react, Turkey pulled you outside to the porch. You got free of his grasp and planted your feet on the wood.

"Okay, I'm not leaving this spot until you tell me what you want."

It appeared there was a pattern of interruptions. There were lots of other nations in the house, it could happen again. Turkey did a sort of salute and smiled.

"Since I'm not as cowardly as those other hipsters, I'm just going to say it this instant! I've done this plenty of times before."

You nodded, coaxing him to continue.

"Pssht, yeah, I'm fine. Well, actually, now that I think about it, I haven't done this a lot before. There is a shortage of female nations who aren't insane."

He looked to an angle, pondering.

"There _is _a ton of male nations, isn't there? That doesn't seem fair, unless you're like Sweden. In his case, it's a homosexual wonderland!"

You stared blankly.

"Oh bloke, I'm getting off track!"

He cleared his throat. Was Turkey…embarrassed?

"Okay, um, (name) I think that I'm in-"

An invisible force knocked you backwards. With a whoosh of your breath, you fell straight on the ground. Turkey immediately started to bend over, but was knocked over as well. You would've laughed if your abdomen wasn't aching.

"Uni, I didn't want you to hit (name)!"

Still sprawled on the ground, you moved your head up further. A certain messy haired nation came into view. He was talking to empty space.

"What do you mean you couldn't tell who was who? I told you to hit the hairy bloke!" he rambled on in his distinguished accent.

"Um, England?"

He focused his attention on you.

"(name)! Agh, dumb unicorns can't understand a simple request."

He glared at the (still) empty space.

"I'll just disregard this," you huffed, struggling to get up.

"Er, anyways,"

England wiped his brow.

"I've been meaning to talk to you…"

"(name)!" a cheerful voice rang out.

Italy and his cursing brother bounded out from the house, followed by Prussia and Greece. You felt a sudden poke in your arm.

"Y-ah!" you yelped.

Norway stood beside you, plastered in place. Denmark was shuffling toward the scene. Somehow, your cell phone with a strained Switzerland on the end, managed to make it in the middle of the ruckus. The nations were all gathered around you, looking equally thwarted. You'd just about had enough of this inane game!

"(name)," the phone crackled.

Everyone gazed down at it.

"I've come to the conclusion that no one has confessed to you yet. Obviously, you are clueless to this situation."

You tilted your head. What could possibly be going on now?"

"Here's the big picture: everyone is in love with-"

Denmark stamped the phone, crumbling it to pieces. You squeaked and knelt next to the remnants. _No~_ Your cell phone, your one true companion throughout this entire mess.

"Great, you've broken (name)'s phone, idiot."

"Well, would you've just had Switzerland blab in front of everyone?"

"Shut up! She's right there!" a separate voice hissed.

"Yeah, we know that, dimwit."

"Don't fight!"

"You're just afraid."

"Am not!"

"Guys, maybe we should just tell her together. It'd-"

"NO!" they all yelled simultaneously.

More arguing ensued around you. You clenched your fists. Sure, you could take a bunch of countries showing up, unannounced, on a day where you were tired and spent. Keeping them all from fighting while maintaining a pleasant atmosphere? No problem. But all of these interruptions, this confusion, your _phone_! Your precious phone! It had gone on long enough.

"Stop!" you shrieked.

Their mouths all clamped shut in shock. Your breathing was shaky.

"All of you, go home."

They looked at one another doubtfully. You would never…

"(name), maybe,"

"I said, go home." You growled.

Later, you would feel guilty, but right now you were furious. You didn't want this whole, stupid holiday, your rare vacation, to be filled with petty disagreements. Why should you force a masquerade in your own home?

You pointed to the exit.

"Go. Now."

…

A brown haired woman was cheerfully approaching your street. She shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun and peered around. Ah, there was your house! The lights were on, so you must've been home from your week across the world. She was a bit worried, barging in on your first day back, but no one should be alone on Valentine's Day!

At least, she assumed you were alone. You weren't in a knowing relationship, and went on to express your feelings against such dealings. Her footsteps rang out as she strided up the driveway. You were going to be so surprised! She bit her lip to hold in a giggle, bringing her hand back to knock.

She heard a garden gate being swung open, followed by the crunching of feet on the ground. Drat! You were already outside! Not wanting to ruin her plan, she quickly sprang and ducked behind a bush.

Curious as to what you were doing, she parted the leaves. At the sight of the sleepy, tanned country, her eyebrows shot up. Oh, you weren't alone after all. She smiled. Well, good for you! And he looked distressed by leaving your presence. Why was she even concerned about you being lonely?

A masked, similarly tanned man followed behind Greece, shoulders slumped. She let out a nervous laugh. Well, you got around, didn't you? She wasn't fully befuddled though; you were pretty, to say the least, but Greece _and _Turkey? In the same area? Without murdering each other? You must've been like a goddess to accomplish that.

Contemplating this scenario, even _more _men trailed behind the duo. England, Norway, Denmark, Italy, Romano…something was seriously up. Nonchalantly clambering out of the shrubbery, she ran over to Prussia.

"What the hell is going on?" she hissed, searching frantically around for you.

The disappointment numbed the silver haired nation's questions.

"Denmark was stupid and crushed (name)'s cell phone."

"Be quiet."

Prussia sneered the Nordic's way. She stood there, still not having any clue to what was going on.

"Okay…but why are all of you here? You weren't having one of your weird parties again, were you?"

He snickered.

"No, (name) wouldn't allow one of my awesome German sparkle parties here. Besides, nobody brought their rubber boots!"

The female country sighed. She wasn't going to get anything out of Prussia now that she got him started on his "parties". She turned and saw the island nation muttering curses under his breath.

"England!" she called, jogging up to him.

_He'd _ ought to explain to her what was going on.

"Why is everyone at (name)'s place?"

He just shook his head, following the exiting group. Only one way to find out now.

She creeped over to the backyard, where she spotted your kneeling form, sniffling. Now it was serious. Dropping the chocolate box, she ran beside you, teeth clenched. You barely ever let your weak side show. Whoever did this was going to _pay_.

"(name), what happened?" she said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You turned up, your eyes dotted with tears.

"H-Hungary, it's all r-ruined!"

"Shh,"

She sat down on her knees.

"Just tell me who did this. They'll be beaten up so hard that-"

"N-no!"

You shook your head violently.

"It wasn't them! Don't hurt them!"

Hungary furrowed her brows.

"Then who was it?"

Your lip trembled.

"M-me!"

"What?"

"Me! It was all me! I was just so stupid. I should've never had scheduled all those trips, I should've understood it was too much! Did you know I didn't even realize it was Valentine's Day?"

"Back up. How is it your fault? And _what _is your fault?"

Your let out a breathy huff. Hungary was assuming the worst. Some of the nations didn't have the cleanliest reputation…To see you distraught in a crowd of men would be unnerving to anyone.

"They all called me to visit, s-so I planned them back to back in o-one week, so I would b-be able to see everyone. B-but I messed up everything! Japan has a black eye b-because of me and I pulled Italy and Romano's hair curls. I _still _don't know what those do!" you raved hysterically.

Hungary kept an unreadable expression. She knew what their hair curls did, but that probably wouldn't make you feel any better.

"I-I was just ignorant and impulsive. When they came over I was just flat out _rude_. I didn't mean to snap at them, I-I,"

Hungary instantly calculated what you'd never get about that particular Valentine's Day. She began laughing. You pouted.

"What's s-so funny?"

She smiled and patted your head. It felt out of place, _you _being the one reassured.

"(name), they all like you!"

"I would've hoped they liked me."

"No, _like_-like you."

"Huh?"

She groaned.

"They. Have. A. Crush. On. You!"

She saw a stunned expression on you, followed by realization. You could almost see the gears click together. Color appeared on your cheeks.

"No, n-no, it can't…"

She couldn't help it anymore. Hungary pulled you into a big hug.

"Oh, (name)! We have to start planning a date for you! Or should I say _dates_?"

…

Much to your advantage, Hungary's second present was a new cellphone. Ol' reliable was getting…old. Still, you felt a twinge in your stomach when you swept up the remnants. Or was that the giddy, lovely feeling you had recently learned to despise? No, you weren't going to think about it. It'd just confuse you more.

But, it had been _Valentine's Day _and they were embarrassed _and_ they were trying to get _you _alone…

"Ugh, curse you Hungary!"

She giggled.

It was difficult letting your mind wander to other subjects when she was babbling on about Austria and her wedding. You shuddered. You did_ not _want to become that type of person.

Oh, but you were devising a plan of your own. You would do the most vile, unattractive actions to sway their interests away from you. Starting by hanging out with Belarus. Learn from the best, right?

You sighed. You didn't want to do that. If they liked you…fine. They were still your friends. Friends that were incredibly cute…

You gritted your teeth. What had corrupted you so?

"(name)," the female nation sang.

"Hmm?" you responded tiredly.

"We need to work on your hair."

Your hands flew up to your head, patting it roughly.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

She grinned triumphantly.

"I _knew _you cared!"

…

_[1] "Hello" in Danish._

_And that's it! Thank you all so much for reading! I'll have some stories that kind of collaborate off of this one out soon, maybe it'll turn into a series…?_

_I'm curious to know…who's chapter was your favorite? Not taking into account that they were your favorite character._

_Not for the next story series, but for a separate one, I'll be happy to hear any characters you want to see in it. They can have already appeared in this one, or not._

_Well, Happy (really late) Valentine's Day!_


End file.
